My head automatically pulled to where Pete stood, rubbing at his jaw while staring at me with an inscrutable look on his face. My feet stopped in their tracks. His hand dropped to his side. Ashley-Leigh was standing right next to him, one hand attached to him like a barnacle. But she was relegated to the size of an ant in my mind, so I paid her no matter mind.
I thought, for half a sec, that he was going to head my way. I felt the intent. But he simply mouthed a quick goodbye to her then opened his door and climbed in. After one last look at me, he fired up the engine and roared out of the parking lot, kicking up a deluge of gravel in his wake.
Ashley-Leigh and I were left standing with our shadows. She attempted to engage me in another staring contest, but I looked right through her like she wasn’t even there. She’d disappeared altogether now . . . even less than an ant.
27
MY DAY IS A WORKOUT
“Hey, champ!” A voice, I was overly attuned to, called out to me as I struggled to crack open my door. “Wanna come with us to the gym?”
Didn’t we just come from gym?
I spared him a glance, and he nodded towards a truckload of my peers amped up on rap music and Red Bull. Pete had accumulated an odd assortment of friends during his short duration of stay with us. I noticed Jake, the burnout from our P.E. class, intermingling with the senior class president. He gave me a cheery wave, and I waved back cordially. Conspicuously absent was Ashley-Leigh. I suppose she’d already used up her quota of tardies to cheerleading.
“No thanks,” I tossed over my shoulder, still sticking to my avoidance game plan.
Before I could take off, Pete jogged over. “Aw, come on, Kate!—live a little.”
I snorted derisively. “I can think of many more things I’d rather do with my time than go to the gym and work out . . . and that includes stayin’ home to wash my hair.” I busied myself digging in my backpack for the key.
“Come on . . . come work out with me.” He bit his lip, nodding his chin back in an enticing way (which only succeeded in making me weak in the knees, but not in changing my mind).
It took me a second to find my voice. “Can’t. I still have to pick up my brothers—it might be your day off, but it’s notmine.” To leak some bitter out, I made a stab at a joke. “‘Sides, I’d like to think of my day as a workout.” I said this as airily as possible before closing the door on his absurdly attractive face.
I was still trying to feel proud of my powers of resistance, when I heard the Hummer roar to life and the squeal of tires peeling off pavement. A dispirited sigh exited my body the same time his vehicle exited the parking lot. My forehead banged steering wheel. A moment later, I was startled from my misery by the passenger door popping open. And then my eyes popped open to see Pete standing there in shorts, a sleeveless athletic shirt, and a smile. My heart did an instantaneous flip-flop.
“In that case, country girl, I’m going to your house to work out.” Pete eyed me appreciatively. “Whatever your method is . . . it seems to be working for you.” That said, he hoisted himself into my passenger seat and closed the door.
“Uh!” I huffed out, both secretly pleased and miffed he’d taken it upon himself to join me without asking. “I don’t recall givin’ you an invitation.”
“It got lost in the mail,” he replied, eyes sparkling.
Gah! The way he was looking at me—it felt like I needed a daily inoculation against his charms. Heat crept up my neck as I allowed myself a full two seconds to drink him in. If I wasn’t careful, I’d start falling for the enemy again.
“Listen. As much fun as this . . . little after-school playdate sounds”—I glanced out the windshield to gather myself—“I have actual real work to do this afternoon. And I need to get started so . . .” My mouth didn’t seem to want to form the words “get out” because every fiber of my being wanted him to stay.
“What? You just gonna leave me stranded?”
I harrumphed. “First off, that’s somethin’ you might do, but I would never do that to someone—your buddy Ranger bein’ the exception to the rule. And I’m pretty sure that you do actually own a cell phone in workin’ order.” I arched an eyebrow at him. “So, just call up one of your cronies, and I’m sure they’d be happy to turn your monster truck right around to pick you up.”
Pete smiled wryly. “Just for the record, I never left anyone stranded that didn’t wander off on me.”
I folded my arms.
“Come on . . . please?” He put his hands together à la Mikey, amping up the wattage of his glittering eyes. “I really, really wanna see the famous Connelly ranch.”
“You’ll only ask for a refund.”
“I doubt it.” He smiled winningly at me.
With a turn of the key, the hatchback sputtered to life, and I threw caution to the wind. Before we even left the parking lot, Pete started fiddling with the knobs on the dashboard.
“Do you mind?”
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding the least bit contrite. “It’s a tad warm in here . . . blame it on the hot driver.”
I bit back a smile. “You can turn it on, but I can’t guarantee the air will be cool.”
“Why not? If you need more coolant we can pull over, and I can put some in for you.”
“Ah.” I nodded sagely. “Those mechanical skills sure do come in handy in regards to my car.”
Pete shot me a sidelong glance but didn’t make a retort. During the quiet, I remembered all the things he had done for me, like warning me about Ranger and leaving a hundred-dollar tip when I sure did need the money. Gratitude swelled my throat. I’d never thanked him for either one, knowing, somehow, not to bring it up.
I cleared my throat. “That’s, um, very nice of you, but unnecessary. The whole unit’s been busted since about . . . oh, the globe started warming or so.”
He looked at me funny for a second. I cringed, thinking he was going to start a pity party for me, but he just smiled ruefully and rolled down the window. “Well, I guess that sucks for you!”
I laughed a little at that bold understatement. “Yes, it does.”
“Well then, you better put the pedal to the metal, sister and get us to The Ponderosa pronto.” He stuck his head out the window then peered back in at me. “Come on!—let’s see what this little baby can do!” he howled out the window like a maniac, forcing a laugh out of me, despite myself.
The warm afternoon beeze ruffled through his golden hair. Wonderstruck, I stared at him. Never in my wildest dream-guy could I have ever conjured up a Pete Davenport. Lucky air . . . I’d been dying to do that with my fingers for ages.
After picking up two very surprised and exuberant boys and some fresh milk from Mrs. Hildebrand, we bumped and chugged our way along the winding road with more amusement than a carnival ride. About fifty yards from our house, an impatiently waiting Blue came bounding from the shade of a yucca to greet us. I stopped to load our latest exuberant passenger, and he proceeded to jump all over Pete, welcoming him with slobbery kisses. Lucky dog . . . I’d been dying to do that for ages.
“Blue! Stop that!” I laughed while half-heartedly trying to pull him off.