7
Beau
If you need me to prove you wrong, well, I will.
As a kid, when I figured out that I was rich, I was so fucking excited. I kept thinking of all the ways I’d spend money when I was old enough to actually have some of it.
Endless video games.
The idea of that now is laughable considering I haven’t picked up a controller for a gaming console since my early teens. When I started learning about cars, it was because I took a genuine interest in it. My dad was so impressed with how easily it came to me and he always told me how valuable that knowledge would be for me in his business one day.
I wanted the most expensive RC plane the hobby shop had. And I wanted a machete, a slingshot, and a set of Dinosaur Encyclopedias. I told myself as soon as I’m a grown-up, I’m going to have it all.
And here I am, a millionaire payingWheel Get Youto take me to and from work every day. All because I like the woman behind the wheel and don’t know how to get time with her otherwise.
“Mornin’ my man,” I greet Jett before I verbally greet his mom since I already gave her a wave through the windshield. The smile I got when Beck pulled in and spotted me? It has me slipping out of my leather jacket while getting comfortable in the backseat of her car.
“Good morning… again,” Beck says, and though this is only the second day she’s picked me up, I did call her for a ride home yesterday, too. We talked about her day because that’s all I wanted to hear about. I’ve never cared about anyone’s day as much as I cared about hearing how she organized a linen closet, put contact paper in drawers, and–my favorite part–scrubbed her bathroom. I couldn’t keep a very specific picture out of my mind.
Beck leaned over a huge clawfoot tub, her ass out, tits swinging as she ravaged the porcelain with a sponge, a piece of honey hair caught in the sweat on her forehead. Fuck. I don’t have a fetish for women doing stereotypical shit; I swear I don’t, but that image is one that had me hard and aching.
“Good morning to you as well,” I greet her, draping my jacket across my knees as I buckle in. When I look up at the rearview, she’s already eyeing me, and fuck if I don’t like that. We exchange grins like I’m not in the car of a woman I just met and know very little about but that I’m in the car with an old flame andnow’s our chance.
That’s strangely exactly what it feels like.
“How was your evening?” I ask, gripping the side of the car seat while I stare down at the blue-eyed boy. He grins at me and when he smiles like that, he looks like her. My chest does a weird twitch and torque, and my vision goes a little blurry for a second, unexpectedly.
“Good, I–”
I raise a palm to her, finding her eyes in the mirror. “I was asking Jett,” I clarify in a mock serious tone.
She giggles, bringing the back of her wrist to her mouth to stifle it. “Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry about that,” she says through the end of her laugh. “Go ahead.”
I nod, pretending to shirk off my faux annoyance. I turn back to the baby who is holding his slobber covered giraffe up to me.
“Ja!” he shouts at me. “Ja! Ja!” His tiny little fingernails go white as grips the giraffe with all his might, shoving it out toward me. “Ja!”
“Seriously?” I ask, leaning a bit closer, feeling her eyes flit between her baby and the road. “Man, you had a good night then. I’m jealous.”
“Ja! Ba! Ba-ba-ba!”
I lean back, shrugging my shoulders to get comfortable. “Okay, now that I know how his night went, I’m ready to talk about yours. How was it?”
She grins at me, and I’m grateful my leather jacket is in my lap. Her teeth are so white, lips so plump and naturally pink–or maybe her smile just fucking shines. I can’t pinpoint one thing. It’s just…everything about her.
Today her blonde hair is in a single braid, over her shoulder, exposing the back of her neck to me. The skin is fair and smooth, and all of me aches to wrap my palm around it, curl my fingertips into her skin and drag her mouth to mine.
She smiles as she flicks on her blinker, preparing to make a right-hand turn.
“Good. Talked to my best friend on the phone this morning. She was already having a crisis before I’d even gotten out of bed.”
“Yeah? What kind of crisis? Are you the friend that counsels everyone?”
She rolls her eyes, the sound of the steering wheel gliding beneath her hands making my thighs tingle. Fuck, I have it bad for Beck and every time I’m around her, it only intensifies.
Briefly, a thought passes through my mind.
Abadthought.