Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits, #1)(42)

ECHO LIVED IN ONE OF THOSE nice neighborhoods. Not the rich fancy kind, but the ones with large trees in the front yard, amateur but nice landscaping, two-story brick fronts and porches with swings. I used to live in a place like this—before. I bet it looked real pretty in the spring. Probably smelled like daffodils and roses—like my house used to. Now, all I could smell was dirt and cold. February sucked.

The two-car garage door opened when we shut our car doors. Echo had parked her Dodge Neon on a narrow strip of concrete next to the house, leaving the red Corvette as the only car in the garage. From the driver’s side, one of Echo’s jean-clad legs dangled.

“I’ve got a hard-on just looking at her, man,” said Isaiah as we strolled up the drive.

“You’re ate up,” I replied, hoping he meant the car, not Echo. I’d hate to throw down with someone I considered family.

Beth squeezed between me and Isaiah. “Sick in the head, more like it.”

“Both. Jesus, are those the original fenders?” Isaiah slid his hand over the body of the car.

I walked into the garage and into a bubble of warmth. A heater hung from the rafters, along with several shop lights. The moment the three of us entered, the garage door closed behind us. Wooden tool benches lined the left and back walls. Tools hung on pegboards. Pictures of cars and people littered the cabinents.

“Maybe you’d keep a girl if you touched her like that.” Beth leaned against a bench.

Isaiah smirked while inspecting the pinstriping. “I meet a girl that could purr like this kitten, I’d caress her all night.”

“Are you guys high?” Echo’s voice drifted from the car. The hoarse catch in her tone swiped a claw at my heart.

Beth scowled in my direction. “Unfortunately, no. Your goody-two-shoes attitude is rubbing off on my boy.” I’d hear Beth complain for days over this. But she, Isaiah and I were more than loser stoners and I wanted to prove that to Echo.

She stayed in the driver’s seat and had yet to show her face. I kept my focus on the car, pretending I had the slightest clue what the hell Isaiah mumbled about. One shot. That’s what I’d bought myself. If I screwed today up, I’d be watching ape boy living life with Echo. Everything inside me wound tight. Shit. I was nervous over a girl.

Isaiah continued to slide his hand up the car toward the hood, mumbling incoherent nonsense. He threw out words like fenders, chrome, body and slants. “Can I take her to second base?” Isaiah’s eyes flickered into the car and then immediately to me. He tilted his head toward Echo before running his hand under the hood, waiting for her to pop it open.

Hell. Isaiah had never won awards for being observant. My stunt with Luke must have pissed her off. I wandered up to the driver’s side to translate for my dumb-ass best friend. “He wants you to pop the hood.”

Echo held a photo album in her lap, with her fingers touching an image. She had that lost look again. The same one she’d worn last semester when she walked into class seconds before the bell rang, pretending no one else existed. Only now I realized that she wasn’t pretending. In this moment, Echo lived in her own little world.

She’d said she had an appointment, but mentioned nothing else. Did something go wrong? I crouched next to her, lowering my voice so only she could hear my concern. “Echo.”

Awakening from her dreamworld, she took a deep breath. “Yeah. The hood.”

She slid her hand under the console and pulled the lever. Isaiah’s eyes sparkled when the latch released with a pop and the door to his magical world opened. “Beth, you’ve got to see this.”

“Your car obsession is unnatural.” She acted like she didn’t care, but Beth pushed off the bench toward Isaiah. “How on earth do you get girls to screw you?”

“Come on, you know the words big block V-8 make your panties wet.”

“Oh, baby,” Beth said dryly. “Take me now.”

Echo checked out my eyes. “Are you sure you guys aren’t high?”

Several sarcastic comments entered my mind, but I reminded myself—one shot. “This is your house and I wouldn’t disrespect you like that.”

The right side of her mouth turned up. “Thanks.” She closed the album. “You ready to delve into the world of physics?”

I glanced around the garage. “Where?”

“I typically study in here.”

“You’re kidding.” The serious look in her green eyes told me she wasn’t, as did her backpack sitting on the passenger side. “You know, most people use tables and chairs.”

Echo shrugged, taking her physics book out of her pack and then placing the pack on the floor next to me. She lowered her voice. “Most people don’t have scars running up their arms or go to ‘strongly encouraged by Child Protective Services’ therapy once a week either. Are we studying or not?”

I opened the door to the passenger side and took a seat. Taped to the dashboard was a picture of Echo with her arms wrapped around a taller guy with brown hair. Appeared Beth had left out a boyfriend in her history of Echo lesson. Imagine that—a stoner who forgot something. “Who’s that?”

A soft smile touched her lips, but not her eyes. Those eyes held so much pain that I felt a knife slash through my gut. “That’s my brother, Aires. It’s our last picture together.” Her hand absently stroked the album in her lap.