Authors: Ginger Scott
Tags: #Romance, #college, #angst, #forbidden romance, #college romance, #New Adult, #triangle love story, #motocross love, #ginger scott
“Hey, I noticed you haven’t been using your
chair lately?” I let my question linger. Gabe turns to look at
Cody, but he’s busy taking the cap off of something and staring at
the exposed engine in front of him, clearly not wanting to respond.
Then Gabe turns to me with a wide smile.
“Yeah, it’s strange. But for some reason,
this last month, my boy here’s been going to rehab every morning,”
Gabe says, his voice clearly in tease mode now. “Something…or maybe
someone
…seems to have him motivated.”
The cap flies from Cody’s hand in a flash and
hits Gabe squarely in the forehead without Cody even looking. “Shut
your mouth, asshat,” he says, squatting down and sliding himself
underneath the car.
Gabe looks at me with a wide smile, almost
proud that he got under Cody’s skin. The two of them act like kid
brothers, and seeing them together makes me realize how
un-brotherly Cody and Trevor are.
Gabe slides my portfolio back to me and joins
Cody under the car. I take advantage of this time to check my phone
for messages. My message screen is blank, which means Trevor’s
either still asleep or got called in to work. I sigh, noticeably,
and then look to the side to see Cody’s face. He’s slid partway
from under the car and is looking at me, intently.
“Something wrong?” he asks?
“No, nothing. Just checking the time. Just a
little worried about my assignment, that’s all,” I say, not really
worried about my assignment at all, but not wanting to bring up
Trevor
here,
in Cody’s father’s shop.
Cody slides out from under the car and gets
to his feet. He wipes his hands on a towel and leans over me,
reaching for my backpack. He pulls out my calculus book and flips
to the page I left marked.
“Why don’t you get started, see how far you
can get, and when I’m done here, we’ll go through them together?”
he offers. Here he is being helpful and earnest, and all I can
concentrate on is how soft his tongue is when it touches the tips
of his teeth while he talks—how perfect the stubble is all over his
face—how much I want to touch the soft, gray T-shirt he’s wearing,
and the strong muscles I’ve seen underneath.
Numbers. Yes, I need to look at some numbers
for a while. I pull my book in front of me and go to work. I get as
far as I can on each problem, and Cody keeps checking on me,
helping me through my hurdles. It’s strange how it all makes sense
when he explains it. In the 40 minutes or so that I’ve sat in his
shop, I’ve learned more than I have in two months of Dr. Rush’s
class. And that’s despite the constant distraction of his arms
pressed on the tabletop around me, his body leaning over mine, and
his breath hot along my neck.
I’m finishing up the last problem on my own,
and I jump a little when Cody drops the hood closed from the car.
Gabe notices, and sticks his tongue out with a smile. “You
daydreaming there, sugar?” he teases.
I stretch my arms, yawning, and shut my book,
tucking it along with my papers and pencil back in my bag. “Brain
just full, I guess. I finished everything, though,” I say, now
looking at Cody. “Thank you, I couldn’t have figured those out on
my own.”
He shrugs, and turns away to clean up their
workstation. “You’re better at this than you think. It’s just
practice,” he says, almost sounding disinterested. I’m starting to
wonder how welcome I really am, wonder if I should ask him to take
me to my car now so he can get on with his day. I gather my things,
get to my feet, and am about to find an excuse to leave when Gabe
pulls my bag from my back and shakes his head
no
.
I’m worried where he’s going with this, but I
put my bag back down without Cody seeing, and wait.
“I’m hungry. You guys want burgers? I’m
buying!” Gabe says, pulling the keys from his pocket.
Cody looks at me, waiting for me to answer.
“I…uh, I guess I could eat?” I stammer. I’m not sure what he wants,
what move is right, but he seems relieved when I say I’d like to
go.
We’re walking to Gabe’s car when I notice a
bike covered by a tarp in the corner. Curious, I pull on the
fabric, just to sneak a peek, and the tarp falls to the back
against the wall. The bike is a mixture of shiny chrome, rusted
parts, and various logos. I’m about to put my hand on the seat,
just to feel it, when Cody starts to retrieve the cover and hide it
once again.
“Wait, I want to see it. Is this your bike?”
I ask, knowing it is.
Cody’s posture dips, and he just looks at me
with a flat smile. I run my hand down the seat and over the
handlebars. It doesn’t seem like there’s much to it at all, though
I know that’s far from the truth.
“That’s the one. I told you about it,
remember? He rebuilt it. Boy can ride, too,” Gabe says, almost
bragging.
Cody interrupts us by pulling the tarp over
it quickly, like it’s a wound he’s left exposed and needs to
bandage up to avoid infection. “Yeah, I don’t know how I feel about
you two talking about me when I’m not around,” he says, a little
gruffly. He bumps into Gabe noticeably as he passes by and heads
down the drive to Gabe’s car. “Well? You hungry or what?”
“Yeah, yeah. Cut the shit-attitude, man.
We’re coming,” Gabe says, looking at me and mouthing, “Sorry.”
“What was that all about?” I whisper before
we’re too close for Cody to hear.
“He’s just funny about it, riding again,
that’s all,” he says. “That…and he’s trying to impress you, but he
has absolutely
no
game.”
I laugh quietly, though inside I’m
unbelievably flattered that Cody could possibly be trying to
impress me. My stomach feels like it did the first time I noticed a
boy on the schoolyard—except this time the flutters in my tummy are
a million times more pronounced, and the rush is felt all over my
body.
Cody takes the backseat, forcing me to sit up
front with Gabe. I notice he and Gabe keep exchanging glances in
the mirror, and I’m once again giddy that it could be about me. We
get to the diner down the road in a matter of minutes, and Cody
pulls open my door as I’m about to get out.
“Why, thank you, sir,” I tease, but Cody only
rolls his eyes, which makes me instantly feel childish and regret
my decision to come. I follow the two of them inside and notice
Gabe softly punch Cody on the shoulder, and Cody harshly shrugs it
off. When we get to the door, Cody walks inside and lets the door
fall shut on both Gabe and I, but Gabe catches it to stop it from
hitting me on the side.
“I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry, I’m making
him uncomfortable,” I say, wrapping my arms around my stomach to
hug myself and make myself small and, God willing, to rewind
time.
Gabe stops me before I walk through the door,
holding his arm in my way. “Stop that, it’s not you. It’s like I
said—just give my boy some slack. He doesn’t trust so well,” he
says, looking me right in the eyes.
I don’t say anything, but I take in a deep
breath. I make my way into the diner to the corner booth in the
back where Cody is now flipping through an endless menu. I slide in
on one side and give him plenty of distance, but Gabe slides in
after me, forcing me to move over more.
Cody tosses the menu down on the table and
leans back into the booth, closing his eyes and squeezing the
bridge of his nose. “This place has shit food. Why do we come
here?” he asks, clearly picking a fight now.
“It doesn’t have shit food. You love the
cheeseburger and pancakes, and you’re just grumpy because you’re
hungry. Now knock it off, asshat,” Gabe says right back at him, not
even missing a beat. If anything, I’m amused by the banter between
the two of them.
Cody notices my smile and calls me on it when
I let out a stifled laugh. “What’s funny?” he asks, trying to keep
his attitude up with me, but slipping just a little as I see him
struggle not to curl his lip.
“Nothing—” I start, but the more I think
about the two of them, the more I laugh. “It’s just…you two are
funny. I never had any of that, a friend like that? And what’s an
asshat
?”
Cody stares at me for a few seconds, his gaze
hooded, trying to read me, and then he visibly relaxes, flopping
his hands flat on the table in front of him. “An asshat is just
that—it’s a hat you wear on your ass,” he says, his tone
serious.
Gabe picks up right where he leaves off, and
I turn my attention his way. “Yes. Basically, someone has to earn
the right to be an asshole. Asshat is like asshole in training,” he
says.
The waitress comes up just as Gabe is
finishing, and we all work to keep from laughing at what she must
have heard. Gabe orders us all waters, and she leaves to get them.
My stomach makes a churning sound, and I realize I’m extremely
hungry. I flip through the menu to the breakfast section, and am
instantly overwhelmed.
“Oh my god. There must be like fifty items on
here,” I say, honestly stressed out over having to make a decision.
Cody reaches over to pull my menu toward him slightly and leans in
to look with me. I tense up at his closeness and look at Gabe who
smiles knowingly and pulls his menu up to give us
pseudo-privacy.
“If you’re going with breakfast, you have to
get the pancakes. Trust me on this,” Cody says, turning to face me.
His eyes soften when he realizes how close we are. He sucks in his
top lip, and all I want to do is touch it, chase it into his mouth.
He’s wearing a plain gray T-shirt and a pair of dirty jeans, with
garage oil marks all over them. He’s sexy as hell, and so close to
me I’m tempted to jump into his lap. But I stay put and turn my
head back to the menu, feeling the force of his eyes on me the
entire time—and I’m eating it up.
“Okay, just pancakes?” I ask, looking over
the options in front of me, but not reading a damn word.
“Bacon, you probably like bacon?” he says,
now turning to look at the menu with me.
“Love bacon. Done, pancakes and bacon,” I
say, closing the menu and tucking it back in the stand at the
center of the table. “That’s twice you’ve helped me out today.
Looks like I owe you.”
I’m flirting now. I’m terrible at it—this I
know. I’ve never really flirted before. With Trevor, he did all the
talking. He asked me out, he made the first moves, and he has
always been in charge.
Trevor. I haven’t thought of him all day. I’m
starting to let the guilt creep in when I feel Cody’s arm against
mine briefly, and then Trevor is gone from my mind in an
instant.
“So, Charlie. What are you doing for
Halloween this year?” Gabe asks.
The thought of Halloween is always
strange—handing out the candy is the toughest. Halloween was
ours—Mac and me. It was the one holiday that we were
always
a father and a daughter. I think of that last year when we were
together passing out candy. We both ate through a giant bag of
candy corn, making ourselves sick. We were in horrible stomach
pain, but I wouldn’t trade that memory for anything in the
world.
“Charlie?” I feel Cody’s hand on mine under
the table, and I jump.
“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking,” I admit.
Cody gives my hand a small squeeze, almost like he knows without
knowing. I smile, but it falls instantly, because I know where I’ll
be on Halloween—I’ll be in Washington, with Trevor.
“I’m…out of town this weekend. Why?” I ask,
hoping we don’t divert into a talk about my plans with Trevor.
Cody’s hand slips away, and I miss it the
moment it’s gone. I pull my own hands together in my lap and link
them together just to hide the feeling.
“Well, there’s this great haunted house out
in the sticks. It’s a tradition. We usually go on Halloween, but we
could go early. You in?” Gabe asks.
Cody has turned his face from me, and he’s
now staring at the waitress who is approaching our table. She’s
cute—maybe 23 or 24, with short hair and a few tattoos running down
her arm. She’s zeroing in on Cody before she gets to our table, and
the instant she’s there, she slides into the booth next to him,
flipping open her order book.
“What can I get ya?” she asks, leaning into
him a little and clearly offering up herself as a menu item. I
can’t even hide the face I’m making, and I know Gabe sees it. He’s
kind enough not to tease me, but he smiles at my jealousy.
“Well, I don’t know. What’s good here?” Cody
says, toying with her a little. He leans forward, cutting off my
view so all I see is his bicep and her syrupy fake smile. I feel
like I’m going to be sick, so I push into Gabe.
“Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom.
Order for me, please,” I say, almost pushing him out of my way. I
rush from the table, dragging my purse with me, and head to the
back of the restaurant, hoping like hell that’s where the restrooms
are. Thankfully, karma is playing nice with me today, and I rush
through the door marked
Women’s
and drop my purse on the
counter next to the sink. I lean forward and look at myself closely
in the mirror.
I look ridiculous—no wonder Cody’s giving his
attention to miss hot-ass waitress out there. Here I am, my hair
pulled into a low ponytail, my shirt a button-up blouse, and my
jeans high on my waist. I look like a soccer mom—a 21-year-old
soccer mom.
Angry, I pull my hair out of its band and tip
my head over, fluffing out the crease, and letting my waves grow. I
can’t do much about my outfit, but I can touch up my makeup, so I
pull out my eye pencil and darken the line under my eyes. I realize
I’m going to look desperate before I put on my lipstick and decide
to stop there and head back out to our table.
The waitress is gone when I come back. Gabe
sees me first, and he chuckles to himself. He kicks Cody under the
table to get his attention, and when he looks up at me, he does an
actual double take. I’m both humiliated and pleased.
Gabe slides out so I can slide back in, and
before they both start to tease me, I make up an excuse. “My head
is killing me. I can only wear the ponytail so long,” I say,
rubbing my skull with my fingertips. That’s a flat-out lie, because
I could wear a ponytail to my grave, but I’ll work on changing that
habit now that I’ve told the story.