“Stop,” I order, putting my hand on his chest to halt what he’s about to do. “I told you, I don’t want your money.”
He grabs my hand, keeping it locked and pressed against his beating heart, making me shift from one foot to the next, uncomfortable with his penetrating gaze on me.
“I know you don’t, but I’m not giving it to you. I’m leaving it for your momma,” he explains softly.
“Whatever,” I mumble, squinting my eyes at him, and take back my hand trapped on his grasp.
When I see him drop a few Benjamins into the box, my lips thin. I know my mother will go nuts when she sees all that cash but still doesn’t feel right. There are always strings involved whenever accepting such a generous gift. No one does anything out of the kindness of their own heart. That’s just not the world I live in. Everything comes at a price—even kindness.
“You ready to blow this joint or what, quarterback?” I ask anxiously, needing to get Finn out of my childhood home as fast as I can.
“Lead the way. I’ll follow wherever you go.”
“Sure you will,” I retort, unamused at his knight-in-shining-armor routine.
Finn doesn’t look even one bit perturbed that I’m not falling for his one-liners. In fact, he looks almost happy. He really is a weirdo.
“Keys,” I demand the instant we get outside.
“And who says I’m going to let you drive my car?”
“I do. Keys. Now.”
“And I’m the one who’s bossy? Woman, you invented the word.” He laughs.
“And don’t you forget it.” I smirk at him as he tosses me the keys to his beloved Porsche.
Sinking into the seat, I instantly love being behind the wheel of such an extraordinary piece of equipment. I can’t help the smile that splits my face when the powerful engine purrs to life. This is going to be fun.
Finn takes ages to set the passenger seat, trying to get enough room for his bulky legs. I’m sure he’s just stalling, worried that I’ll wreck his baby the minute we get on the road. I’ve never seen a man have such a hard-on for a car. I’m not sure if it’s a guy thing or a Finn thing, but honestly, I don’t care. Who knows when I’ll have the opportunity again to drive such a fast machine? I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth, that’s for damn sure.
“You ready?” I raise my brow.
“As I’ll ever be,” he replies, not convinced in the slightest.
“Then strap in and hold on tight!”
Without warning, I pull in reverse and turn the car so fast it gives Finn whiplash.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Woman, don’t kill us!”
“Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours. I got this,” I laugh out loud, pushing the car as fast as it can go.
After a few minutes, I half-expected Finn to go crazy on me and tell me to slow down, but to my surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he looks chilled and relaxed in his seat, as if this weren’t the first time I was driving his car. And when he puts on some music, and my jam begins to play, his smile turns ten feet wide the minute I start singing along. I roll the windows down to let the wind blow on my face and just enjoy the moment. After seeing my momma in that state, this is exactly what I needed—freedom to fly and spread my wings without the constant worry of my obligations chaining me down.
I’ve lived all of my young life responsibly, so doing stupid shit sometimes reminds me that I’m still young with the best years still ahead of me. It’s oddly liberating, being reckless every now and again. We only live once, so we should grab life by the balls whenever the opportunity presents itself. Life should be a string of moments lived to the fullest, not full of regrets.
And for the next twenty minutes, I do just that—enjoy my youthful recklessness with the wind in my hair, good music on the radio, and Finn’s light chuckle ringing in my ears. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this might be as close to content as I’ve ever been.
I take a peek at the man at my side and see a damn smile still widely planted on his face, mimicking my own and making me melt further into my seat.
Once we get to our destination, I make a ruckus with my sharp-break parking, announcing our arrival to everyone at the food truck. Now I know why Finn loves this car so much. This silver number is all sexy curves with a powerful engine begging to be driven to its limit. She sure does drive like a dream. I almost feel like I’m cheating on my poor beat-up truck. Sure, it’s not much to look at and takes forever to get from A to B, but at least it’s reliable. And if I had to choose between Fast and Furious or Driving Ms. Daisy, I’d take the latter.
Going fast in life leads to trouble, and I’ve got too much of it, to begin with. My father taught me that, at least. To be cautious. He was the perfect example of how, with one false step, everything you love can be ripped away from you. So, as much as I adored the adrenaline rush when driving Finn’s ride, I don’t want to get used to the feeling. I don’t want to get addicted.
Am I still talking about the car or its owner?
“Is this where you want to eat?” Finn asks, calling me away from my pensive thoughts with his question.
“This is the place,” I reply, trying hard to school my features. “Do you have a problem with that, pretty boy?” I ask with my usual sass, my hands on my hips and brow raised high.
Instead of Finn using his words, he just bridges the gap between us, leans in, and grabs me by the neck to deliver such an intense, passionate kiss that I’m sure I leave a puddle on the floor.
“No problem at all.” He grins once he’s had his way with me, his heavy eyes staring into my own. “Just needed to do that first.”
“Satisfied now?” I smirk back at him, a little too breathless to play off that he didn’t just kiss me stupid.
“Not by a long shot, but it’ll do for now.”
“Come on, quarterback. I bet you’re starving.”
“You have no idea,” he replies flirtatiously, biting his knuckles as he scrolls his eyes over my body.
“Will you stop?!” I slap his chest, laughing at his lame-ass innuendos.
“Then don’t make it easy for me!”
“Just move those feet,” I order, and with another chuckle he begins to walk beside me toward the food truck, but not before grabbing my hand in his.
“You know, you might be a little too dressed up for truck food.”
“And who says that?” I taunt.
“Sorry, you’re right. My bad.” He laughs.
I order three chili burgers, some fries, and two sodas while Finn passes another crisp bill to the vendor to pay for the food.
I eye him up and down and see he really did clean up nice to take me to whatever place he had in mind. A small sense of guilt rises within me, making me think that perhaps I ruined his plans with my drama. It’s an emotion I’m unfamiliar with, and if I’m honest with myself, spending time with Finn brings out other feelings that I’m trying hard to push down and ignore.