“I’m sure. I can handle myself.” I offer Sam a tight smile. “Thanks though, that’s really sweet.”
“Bet.”
Sam is unaffected, or totally oblivious to how much inviting himself on my road trip annoyed me. Another cutting bark of amusement sounds from Fox.
Ignoring him, I get in the SUV while Sam puts both our bags in the back seat. I check my phone for messages, finding two new texts from Thea asking if I want to come by the bakery she’s opening in June. Her fiancé, Connor Bishop, bought the building for her as a surprise to help her achieve her dream. They’re both a year older than me, like Fox and my brother, but Fox was held back when he enrolled at Silver Lake High.
I tap out a quick reply to let her know I have volunteering and a yoga class to teach after that. Her response comes a minute later, all flowery emojis and cutesy hearts because my best friend is literal walking sunshine. My mouth curves in a fond grin at her positive energy. I smooth my fingers over the other bracelet I always wear, a brass bangle with a smooth round inlay of rose quartz. Its nurturing properties remind me of her.
Sam slides into the driver’s seat and reaches across to prop his hand on my headrest, absently playing with a lock of my light brown hair from my high ponytail. “Want to come to my place?” His voice dips lower into a flirty tone. “We can do our homework, then chill in my hot tub.”
The quick leer he flashes me almost has my eyebrows flying up. Wow, even the nice ones are obvious.
“Can’t.” I twitch my head so my hair slips through his grasp, playing it off like I’m still checking my phone. His hand drops to my leg instead, brushing my skirt up slightly and stirring another flash of irritation. “I have to be home by two so I can make it to the library on time for my volunteer shift. I don’t like to let the kids down, you know? They love story time.”
“Fine.”
I purse my lips and dart my gaze out the window, only to meet Fox’s piercing scowl a few feet away. My stomach gives another lurch of dread. He’s paying too much attention to my every move, but nothing has happened yet. That can only mean—
The engine makes an awful sputtering sound as Sam presses the ignition button.
“What the—” Sam’s brows pinch in confusion and he tries again.
The same thing happens and my teeth clench together. I can feel the intent press of Fox’s entire presence in my periphery, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s wrecking my day. Again.
When Sam tries the push start button a third time with no change, I force out a sigh. “I don’t think it’s going to start.”
“Yeah, I guess not.”
Sam seems at a loss for a moment, ruffling his hair. He gets out of the SUV and eyes the front grille like it might bite him. The parking lot is emptying out fast, leaving only us and the cars of students who have after school activities.
When I hop out to see if I can help, Fox is right there, a huge wall of leather, muscle, and heat blocking my path. I stand my ground, refusing to let him intimidate me. He gives me a cool stare through the thick messy dark brown fringe hanging over his forehead. His mouth curves into a vicious smirk when he catches me staring too long at his lips.
My cheeks heat. Stupid memories. I jerk my head toward the front of the BMW so I don’t have to face him or my momentary lapse into insanity. Or nostalgia? I haven’t decided yet, I just know what happened at that party has brought me nothing but torment no matter how good it felt to be wild and impulsive.
“Car troub
le?” Fox taunts with an edge of satisfaction in his deep voice. He doesn’t spare Sam an ounce of his attention. “What a shame. Those upmarket models really aren’t made to last.”
Sam’s head pops up from beneath the hood and he hesitates, taking in how close Fox is standing to me, almost keeping me prisoner against the side of the car. Like most of our classmates, he doesn’t mess with Fox. For every new rumor about me, there have been two for him. People love to talk, everything from speculating he has a different girl every night to mob ties that bankroll him. I heard someone yesterday morning whispering that he killed a man when I was walking to my freshly vandalized locker—thanks, Fox.
“Yeah. It won’t start.”
“I can take a look,” Fox offers with a merciless grin that highlights the hard-edged asshole he’s become. “I know my way around cars.”
My eyes narrow in suspicion. This was totally all him and he’s enjoying the spectacle. Goddamn it. Why is Fox so hellbent on torturing me?
“Thanks, man. Have at it.” Sam waves his hands with a relieved breath. “I don’t really know a lot about cars. My dad’s dealership handles all the maintenance.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. We can figure it out. Or call a tow service.”
“But babe, you said you had to be home in time for your volunteering thing,” Sam points out.
Is Sam crazy? Fox is the reason the car won’t start, and he’s just going to let him back under the hood as easy as that?
The hate-filled look Fox gives me tells me he knows he’s won yet again.
He steps around to peer under the hood beside Sam, shouldering him out of the way and looking comfortable with the engine parts, like he belongs with his calloused fingers working out the mechanics. Now he has witnesses as he gets his fingerprints all over the engine, touching every single part and leaving us with no way to file a police report against him to prove he did it.