“Here, let me get that for you,” he says with a hint of laughter and walks over to me.
I frown and take a step back. He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket, manually unlocks the door, and swings it open.
I guess chivalry isn’t dead. I smile weakly, say “Thank you,” and climb on in.
Woah. The seat is weird. It’s just one big seat spanning across the entire front. It’s almost like a backseat, but there’s no little spot in the middle making a third seat. There’s just one long black leather bench. I’ve never sat in a car like this before, is this custom? I reach back, grab my seat belt and buckle up. Chase comes around the other side of the car, opens his door and slips behind the wheel.
After securing his own seatbelt, he sticks his key in the ignition and twists. The car roars to life causing me to jump a bit. Then I wince, my head is throbbing. The car is loud.
“Is there any way to turn it down a little?” I ask and rub my temples.
Chase frowns apologetically. “Sorry, this is how she purrs. Think some music will help?”
I shrug my shoulders. I don’t know if it will help or not. He reaches out, twists the dial on the radio and heavy rock music blares from the speakers.
“Shit! Sorry!” I hear him through the hands that I’ve slapped over my ears.
I close my eyes, gritting my teeth as the ache thunders in my head. The music changes, it goes from hard rock to country to rap then he settles the dial on a soft rock station. After a few seconds, I realize I actually recognize the song that is playing. As the singer croons and I actually start to feel better, I drop my hands.
“Better?” Chase asks.
I nod my head and offer him a grateful smile. “Yes, much better. Thank you.”
His face lights up with his smile. It’s so bright, for a moment it steals my breath. I quickly look away. I have to look at something, anything, but him.
That blow I took must have been harder than I thought.
“So where are we going?” he asks.
I stare out my window, so distracted by my own
thoughts, so upset by how that smile of his affected me, I just respond with, “My place,” without really thinking about it.
We just sit there, the car idling, the singer crooning and I wonder why we’re not moving when he finally asks, “Where do you live?”
“Oh,” I say in surprise. My cheeks warm. I feel like such an idiot. Of course he doesn’t know where I live. It would totally be creepy if he did. “I live over on Elm. Behind the Thornton’s. Do you know where that is?”
He nods his head and puts the car in gear. “By the liquor store?”
I nod. “Yep, that’s it,” and stare out my window.
Chase
“By the liquor store?” I ask as I shift my baby into gear.
“Yep, that's it,” Avery says as she looks out the window.
Well, shit. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever had to ask if someone’s house is by a liquor store
I know vaguely where she is wanting me to take her but I have only been in that part of town a couple of times, usually as a short cut to somewhere much nicer. Trenton isn't the worst part of town really, but it sure isn't the best. Not by a long shot.
The music on the radio isn't my preferred type, but I can understand her wanting a bit of quiet. The lump on the back of her head has to be killing her.
“So, um, how long have you lived on Elm?” I ask.
“For a couple of years,” Avery says.
“Hmph.”