Lag (The boys of RDA #2)(23)

The ten or so cars in front of us seem to drop off as one after another slowly falls down past my line of sight.

“Please keep your helmets on at all times and obey the five mile an hour traffic guideline when making your way down the hill.” Our guide smiles and winks at Trey with his parting words and then walks behind our car to stand on the sidewalk.

“Thank God. I didn’t think he’d ever leave. Are you excited?” he asks.

The car in front of us moves ahead. “Yes, I’m so excited.” My hands clap together in anticipation. “Do you think little L.D. will make it?”

“Little L.D.?” Trey looks to me with an up turned eyebrow.

I try to play it off cool, but my face turns red at being outed in my car naming game. “Yeah, I named him Lemon Drop, but it was too long so we’re going with L.D.” I shrug and try to wear my best “no big deal” expression.

He laughs anyway. “Are all your names after food or is it a recent thing?”

Two more cars make the drop as we get closer and closer to the famous crooked street ahead and I think about the answer to his question. “I’ve never noticed. It’s a recent thing, I guess. Not many of us had cars in New York. I named the Escalade Licorice earlier, so it must be new.”

“Don’t ever tell Jake you named his car Licorice.” His head turns to mine with upturned lips on one side of his mouth and a devilish gleam in his eye that might sprout him horns. "Or maybe we should. I would love to see him riled up. Let’s get him to drive us somewhere tomorrow and mention it.”

“No!” I hit his arm, but laugh as his smile grows while he stares into the distance.

The traffic moves again and provides us with a better view of the street ahead. All conversation with Trey is forgotten as I watch the line of cars make their way down the steep road paved in red bricks.

The crooked nature of the road creates oxbows of extra sidewalk and yard space with every curve. The inside of each is planted with green bushes and other shrubs to fill in the voids. The blue Explorer in front of us pulls onto the street and begins to take the first turn. Trey moves L.D. into position, but we wait at the top for the cars in front of us to make it farther down the steep incline.

Once the blue Explorer crosses the halfway mark, Trey lets off the brake and we slowly slide into position. “Here we go.”

He takes the first turn a little faster than I would have but immediately has to brake to complete the next one. I laugh at his look of concentration before the car is jerked to a stop again. Before we make the third curve, he’s laughing with me at the ridiculousness of the situation. What I was expecting to be a rollercoaster of excitement is actually more like a slow crawl in a city park. It’s still steep and fun, but between all the cars in front of us and our own inability to maneuver at a fast pace, some of the excitement is lost. My hair doesn’t even blow in the breeze.

I turn to the side and watch the houses as we drive by them. Living on a street continuously full of tourist would be unimaginable. The ride is over before I’ve had time to take in all the sights, and we sit at the base of the hill still laughing. The same guy who passed the car over to us waits as Trey pulls to the side and we exit the car, removing our helmets as we do.

“Did you two have fun?” he asks.

“Yes, it was great,” I answer before Trey pulls me off in the direction behind us with my leather bag wrapped over his shoulder.





CHAPTER TWELVE


Trey turns in the opposite direction of L.D. and we start the walk back up Lombard Street. This time our slower pace gives me time to take in the details of the landscaped area and houses on each side of the roadway.

We walk back up past all eight curves of Lombard Street, on the pedestrian steps this time. Once we reach the top of the hill we drove down minutes ago, the need to fill the space starts to claw at me. I try to pretend we’re a normal couple, out for a cute stroll rather than what we are. And what are we? I can’t even answer the question myself.

My anxiety builds and I start to question what we’re doing here more and more. I’m about to throw out one of the hundred or so reasons I’ve thought of to make my exit when Trey picks up our conversation as if no time as passed. “Do you like pizza?”

“Of course.” Who doesn’t like pizza?

“There is a great place a block or so from my house. I’ll order and we can pick it up on the way to my place. What do you like for toppings?”

We’re walking to Trey’s house? The ability to see his personal space is all the motivation I need to keep this night going. “Anything. I'm not picky.”

Trey laughs at my answer as we stop at a street corner. “Yeah, you say that now. Girls always say they’re not picky when they don’t want to seem picky, but they don't mean it.”

Still waiting to cross the road, I flash him a look even my sister would be proud of. “Well I’m serious. As long as it isn’t anchovies we're fine.”

His eyes widen when he thinks he’s caught me. “See!” His finger playfully points at me while he smiles through his accusation.

“Were you planning to order anchovies?”

The crosswalk lights up and we both step off the curb. “No, anchovies are disgusting. What kind of person would eat them on a pizza?”