I could argue that I am indeed a proud member of adulthood, that I’m more than safe and capable of doing a job that requires me to engage with strangers.
Instead, I throw him a bone.
“I’m actually not going to much longer.”
Electricity surges through my veins, heat and light sparking in my temples as I see his pleased, reassured grin in the rearview. Making him happy makes me happy.
Whoa.
“You’re not?”
I shrug. “Now that the lease is signed on the studio, I get my keys in a few days, and it feels like the time to start putting my energy towards my real passion again.”
He lifts a brow. “You’ve secured your loans? Does it need any renovation or additional work?”
I’m… surprised by his questions. I guess when I was his age, I didn’t know about any of that stuff because I let Dustin handle all the bills and business. But Beau, the mechanic, never ceases to amaze me with all the ways he is mature and…differentfrom most younger guys.
“The hardwood floor does need to be stripped, and the bathroom could use some work, but I don’t actually need any loans,” I tell him, opening up to him about things I never thought I would. I never thought he’d care, truthfully. “When Dustin and I split up, he left me well taken care of; I guess you could say.”
Beau snorts.
“What?”
Looking caught off guard, he shakes his head, ignoring my question. “So you have what you need to open your new place then?”
“Yeah. I never droveWheel Get Youfor money. I have settlement money, plenty of it.”
“Why’d you start driving then?” he asks.
“First to get out of the apartment, then to get out of the house, but always to get out of my head.”
“Did it help?”
“I was going insane just twiddling my thumbs. So… yeah, it helped.”
He smiles, and my heart expands at the beautiful sight of him. “So you’re not insane anymore?” he asks as I roll to a stop, one light away from Wrench Kings.
Accelerating, I make my way to the parking lot adjacent to the mirrored building. I put the car in park and turn in my seat to face him.
I shake my head no.
His smile falls away, and his voice is smoky when he asks, “should I ask you out again, then?”
The surprise and fear etched into his features when he discovered Jett wasn’t with me run behind my eyes like a movie.
I nod my head yes, my frantic pulse echoing in my brain.
“Will you go out with me, Beck?”
I love the way he says my name. Like I belong to him. I nod my head yes.
“I have something I gotta do tonight, Atticus is gonna give me a ride home, and I have a busy weekend. But Monday, we will have our date.”
He wishes me a good day and leaves, and I’m left with a confusing cocktail of emotions.
I finally gave in to him and said yes after weeks of asking, and the idea that we’re going to spend time together outside of my car excites me. It does more than excite me. It makes me wild and feral, like a young eighteen-year-old chasing an idealized version of a complete stranger they’ve romanticized for ages. It’s reckless how I feel for him.
And all that emotion has me concerned.