Page 34 of Challenge Me

I remained kneeling in the grass, covered in soot, oil, saliva, and the evidence of both our releases.

“You’re lucky,” he said.

My voice came out hoarse. “Am I?”

His smile widened. “We didn’t have to learn how to jump-start a battery.”

Chapter Eleven

Ghost

My triumph over you was absolute.

You sat quietly in my passenger seat as I drove, weakly rubbing the last stubborn traces of oil from your cheeks. You were thoroughly satisfied, judging by the way you had gone completely boneless against my leather, staring through the window with your eyelids heavy. Now and then, your lashes lowered completely, only for you to force them back up, stubbornly fighting sleep.

Your clothes were a mess, which made for one hell of a contrast to the version of you I had taken out on this drive. That Lai had been pressed, polished, and put together. His shirt had been perfectly ironed and starched, his tie straight, every button secured. Now your shirt was nowhere to be seen, and your red coat was lazily draped over your bare body. Your long hair was tangled around your shoulders, and a dark bite mark was forming beneath your jaw that made my engine purr every time my gaze passed over it.

I glanced over at you again, unable to hide the proud smile spreading across my face. You had done well, considering you had barely known how to handle a stick shift when we started. You met my eyes, a soft smile playing over your lips.

I was going to get lost in those blue eyes.

That would not do. A gentleman ought to keep his attention on the road, especially when carrying precious cargo. I looked away and focused on the highway stretching ahead of us, my headlights making the road signs and markers glow.

HEMPSTEAD

EXIT 1 MILE

My engine choked. The sound tore through the quiet cabin, a violent cough followed by a shudder that shook my entire frame. For one terrible second, I nearly stalled in the middle of the highway; my revs dropped, caught, then surged again as I forced myself onward.

You sobered instantly, the peaceful weariness vanishing from your face as you straightened up in the passenger seat, one hand bracing against my dash. “Ghost?”

I did not answer.

The sign vanished behind us, but the words remained burned across my sight.

Hempstead.

It shouldn’t have come as a shock. I knew these roads well; I knew the turn-off like I knew the back of my hand. I just hadn’t expected it to be so close. I hadn’t expected it to cut like a sharp blade, re-opening a healing wound like a vicious little surgeon.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, anxiety creeping into your voice.

I shook my head, then realized what I had done and nodded instead. “I’m fine,” I muttered. Another sign swept into view.

HEMPSTEAD

EXIT 1/2 MILE

I had never not taken that exit, the turn-off that led toward a home that wasn’t my home anymore. My hands tightened on my wheel. Just a fraction, but you were no fool. You knew something was wrong. The lie was rattling through every inch of my body. You could hear my revolutions spiking and dropping without reason, and how tense my suspension was.

“I’ll drive,” you declared suddenly as you pushed yourself over the center console and into my driver’s seat, grabbing the wheel.

I didn’t resist. I couldn’t; I could barely think. My mind was trapped in the past, where I had watched the large white letters pass above my windshield hundreds of times over the years with John behind my wheel. My eyes were locked onto them as your steady hands gently turned my wheel toward the offramp.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, tearing myself away from the past to look at you. “Keep going.”

“I can tell somethings got you spooked.” You shook your head and surprised me a little by flicking on the indicator.

“Spooked?” I scoffed, though the sound came out thin and breathless rather than offended. “I am a 1970 Dodge Challenger; I don’t get spooked.”