Page 13 of Out of Bounds
“You’re so used to driving on the ranch where there’s no traffic, it’s easy to forget,” I say, trying to keep this lesson on point. “You need to focus on mirrors, signal, maneuver all the time.”
She makes a theatrical show of checking every mirror and her blind spot, despite driving in a straight line with no hazards across the plateau of gold and green.
“There isn’t anything dangerous out here in the wilderness,” she tells me.
“The aim is to make you test ready. Then you can drive as recklessly as you want.”
She looks skyward and grinds that clutch again as she battles with the stick. I look out of my window to stop her from seeing my smirk. Teasing Annie is as fun as messing with the guys.
“Why d’you always use my full name, anyway?” she asks pointedly, checking her rearview.
“I don’t know, Annie Quinn. Kinda rolls off the tongue now, doesn’t it?”
Stone-faced, she tells me, “Not at all.”
“Eyes on the road now, girly, and two hands on the wheel. Would you rather I call you just Annie?”
“If you don’t mind me calling youJustTanner.”
I chuckle. “Alright, then, Annie Quinn it is.”
She changes gear, grinding her clutch again and making all two hundred and fifty pounds of me lurch forward.
“Sorry, these darn pedals are so far away from me.” She gives me the protest of a woman who’s very familiar with slamming her passenger into his safety belt.
“You’re good. Take your time. That’s it. Atta girl.”
She slips into an easy drive and I forget that I’m supposed to be teaching her as I hang a lazy arm out the window and feel the breeze across it. This place is beautiful. Longhorns graze on the green pastures; a couple ranch hands are out riding in the distance.
I let my eyes close and roll my neck, stiff from the weekend’s game. Damn, it feels good. I bring a hand to my traps, my shoulders, my chest and rub out the tension.
Until I’m startled back to the driving lesson as Annie screams. The car swings left, right, left.
“Annie, a cow!” I yell as she continues to scream and, un-fucking-helpfully, squeezes her eyes shut.
“We’re going to die!” she shouts at decibels I’ve never heard as she takes her hands off the wheel.
As the truck makes directly for a longhorn, I grab the steering and swing us hard left. We spin and spin, dirt kicking up, until eventually we stop in the field, the cow running into the distance as its fucking dung splats onto the windscreen.
I gag at the stench and the smattering of cow shit that’s come through the window onto my arm. Annie’s chest rises and falls with the intense speed of her breaths and slowly, one by one, she opens her eyes.
Her jaw hangs loose as she takes in the scene. The stink. My filthy limb.
“I. Am. So. Sorry.”
AndIam starting to think acts of goodwill come with a dirty price tag. The only responses running through my mind arewhat the actual fuck?Andwhy in hell did you close your eyes?Andhow did this happen?
So I consciously say nothing.
“You did the—” She wiggles her fingers near her neck. “With your—” Then leans her head from side to side. The proverbial penny drops.
“Did you get flustered by my hot man bod, Annie Quinn?” Despite the situation, I chuckle as her cheeks flame.
“I did not!”
“Whatever you say, Annie.”
Creases form at the sides of her eyes as she scowls but there’s a twinkle in them. “Well, no one would say you have a hot man bod now that you’re covered in cow dung.”
