“I did know,” I said with a quiet smile. “I’m actually your maid of honor.”
“Ahhh…” he said. “So you’re the tempting maid of honor with the bedroom eyes and bachelorette antics. I’ve been warned about you.” He opened the passenger car door and waited for me to get in. “You’re the one who’s going to seduce me on my wedding night and whisk me away to your dungeon of passion.”
I let out a laugh as I stepped into the car. I hadn’t expected the fabled Easton North to be charming. Pulling the seatbelt over my chest, I tried to place the reason Chelsea stopped seeing him. Had it been her decision or his? I don’t think there had even been a decision, actually. I think, like so many of her relationships, they had hooked up a few times, then wandered away. Case in point—tonight, which had been a calculated attempt for her to seduce Tainted Love’s guitarist, only the band had canceled last minute and left us with a DJ who seemed to have last year’s hit list on repeat.
He made sure my feet were inside, then shut the door. I looked through the dusty windshield at Potbelly’s, the bar still overflowing with drunk bodies who didn’t care what was pumping through the speakers.
He sat down in the driver’s seat and inserted the key, the engine whining as it sputtered, then came to life. I carefully moved my heels out of the way of a pile of empty Gatorade bottles in his floorboard. Definitely not the sleek Challenger that Jonah vacuumed out and waxed every Sunday afternoon.
“So, Ellen? Is that right?”
Technically it was, but I’d crawl under my comforter and die before responding to that. “Elle.” I studied the bar. “Do you have friends you need to say goodbye to?”
“Nah, I’ll come back after I drop you guys off.” He put the car in reverse and turned toward me, gripping the back of my seat as he looked behind him and backed the car up. I shifted closer to the door and tried not to notice the way the edge of his thumb touched my shoulder. From the backseat, Chelsea mumbled through a horrific rendition of the anthem’s third verse, unbothered by the conflicting song playing through Easton’s speakers.
“So, what about you?” He braked and looked at me, the dim lighting in the car only enhancing his features.
“What about me?”
“Are you betrothed?”
I smiled. “You know nobody says betrothed.”
He gave me a mock puzzled look. “Every guy on the baseball team says betrothed. Like, every day. It’s second in line to glove.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay.”
“That was my humble segue into mentioning I’m on the baseball team.” He pulled to the edge of the lot and glanced right, before turning left. I tried not to be bothered by the fact that he knew exactly where our sorority house was.
“Very suave,” I remarked. “And well needed. With a name like Easton, I assumed you were a tuba player.”
It was his turn to laugh, and a shot of pleasure hit at the unrestrained sound that came from him. He glanced at me, amused, and I fought to keep my features bored. “So?” he asked. “Are you in love?”
“That’s an odd question,” I shifted in my seat and watched the approaching light turn red. We slowed to a stop, and a trio of guys stepped into the road. “Most guys just ask if I’m dating anyone.”
“Most guys are probably hitting on you.”
“Which you aren’t,” I said skeptically.
“I’m just asking a question.” He smiled as if he knew exactly how devastating the impact was.
“She’s single,” Chelsea crowed. “Very very VERY single.”
I groaned and turned to glare at my best friend. “I’m not that single.”
“You should date E,” she announced brightly, as if she had just had the idea of a lifetime. “You guys would be perfect together!”
Easton gasped as if offended. “I thought we were in love. What happened to diminishing our beauty and all of that?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she rattled off. “You guys can diminish your own beauty.”
He turned down our street, the short ride almost painful in its quick trajectory. “ADPi, right? You want me to drop you off in front or back?”
“The front please.” I found my clutch on the floorboard and turned to Chelsea, holding on to the seat as he drove across the pothole just before our house. “We’re at the house. Please be quiet.”
She snorted in response. I unclipped my seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll get her in.”
“Wait.” He grabbed my hand and the contact felt too intimate. “I never found out why you laughed at my license.”
I scrunched up my nose. “Maybe I’ll tell you next time I see you.” I pulled my hand free and cranked open the door. “If I see you.” Stepping out, I waited for Chelsea, getting a full view of her panties as she hoisted herself out of the backseat with an unladylike burp.