How (Not) to Fall in Love(8)

He slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. I felt the deep rumble of the engine underneath my butt. I glanced at the dashboard, which gleamed. The car wasn’t new but it was spotless. He must be one of those guys obsessed with their cars. I wondered if he washed it shirtless. If he did, he could probably charge for admission.

Stop it, I told myself. He’s your driver, not your date. I tried to think of something non-freaky to say. “You’re probably going to end up with a lot of dog hair in the backseat. Sorry.”

He shot me a crooked grin as the car pulled out of the driveway. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a Shop-Vac.”

I suddenly wondered if my uncle had told him to be extra nice to me because my life was falling apart. The idea was almost as appalling as the Top Ten list on my locker.

He increased the speed as we turned down Sixth Avenue. “So Charlie says he hasn’t seen you in a long time. He’s glad you’re coming to his store.”

“Me too. I’ve never been there.”

He turned toward me, surprised. “Really? Why not?”

Weren’t limo drivers supposed to remain silent unless spoken to? Guilt about not seeing my uncle made me irritable. “Long story.”

He shrugged. “It’s kind of a long drive, if you feel like telling the story.”

“You don’t want to hear it. Be glad you’re just the chauffeur.”

He shot me a look of surprise, then a darker emotion flickered in his eyes before he turned back to the road. “So the hired help shouldn’t ask questions. Got it.”

Oh no. Now he thought I was a rich bitch too good to talk to him?

“I didn’t mean… It’s just…” Crap. Why couldn’t I be charming like my dad and Sal? It was situations like this that made me stay in my mousy shell. He didn’t say anything for several blocks, making me feel bad that I’d snapped at him. I reminded myself he’d driven across town to pick me up, and was just trying to make conversation.

“My dad,” I said haltingly, “Charlie’s brother, he, uh, didn’t see Charlie often. I think I was seven the last time I saw him.”

I glanced at Lucas’s arms resting on the steering wheel as we waited at a red light. His skin glimmered in the sun like Aspen leaves at their peak, golden and warm.

“Wow,” he said. “That’s…different.”

“That’s one way to put it,” I said, then shifted in my seat so I could pet Toby in the backseat. I snuck a glance at Lucas’s profile. Yep. Still hot.

We drove in silence again, until he reached for his iPod. One of my favorite songs by a local band blasted through the speakers. He adjusted the volume and glanced at me. “Is this okay?”

I was glad he had to refocus on driving because those eyes of his killed me. “Yeah,” I said. “I love Ice Krystal. They’re great in concert.”

He glanced at me. “Did you see them at the Gothic? That was an awesome show.”

“It was,” I agreed. I’d gone to the concert with Sal and we’d danced the entire time. It was weird to think Lucas had been there, too. Possibly even witnessing my lame dance moves.

“Charlie’s store isn’t far from the Gothic.”

Wow. So all the concerts I’d seen there, my uncle had been close by and I hadn’t even known?

Lucas turned the car down an alley behind a row of old brick buildings. “We’ll park in the back, but walk around to the front. You need to get the full effect, seeing it for the first time.”

“Whatever you say, driver.” I forced a feeble smile, and his answering grin chased away some of my anxiety.

We walked down the alley and around to the storefronts facing Broadway. I held Toby’s leash in one hand and my hatbox in the other. My spazzy dog kept angling into Lucas’s space.

“Want me to hold the leash?” Lucas asked.

“No thanks.” It would’ve been easier, but I was feeling stubborn, and anxious. Handing over the leash again felt like giving up control.

“Have you done training with your dog?” Lucas asked, after he almost fell over Toby darting in front of him.

“Yes,” I grumbled. “But he has a mind of his own.” Especially when he’s in insta-love, I wanted to say, but didn’t.

I was so distracted trying to wrangle Toby that I almost walked past the shop, until Lucas put a hand on my arm to stop me. I jumped at the feel of his skin on mine, and he yanked his hand away.

He inclined his head toward the faded brick storefront. “Here it is.”

I took a deep breath, feeling like I was about to meet a magic wizard who held all the answers to my questions about my dad. But then I remembered Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, and reminded myself there was no such thing as real wizards.





Chapter Five


The Second Hand Story was flanked by a vacuum and sewing machine repair shop and a tattoo parlor called Inkheart. This part of town was cool in a shabby, retro kind of way.

The store’s large window faced the sidewalk. Someone had put up a crazy display of toy animals frolicking under a fake tree. A stuffed squirrel had a Frisbee glued to its paw while a fuzzy rabbit flew a kite suspended from the ceiling.

I glanced at Lucas and pointed to the display. “Is this what you meant by ‘the full effect’?”