The Redo (Winslow Brothers #4) (50)

“Okay?” she retorts with irritation that makes her lips part and eyebrows draw together. “I have to keep this stupid cast on for another two weeks! I won’t be able to cheer, and I’m pretty sure this means I’m on the bench for the rest of the season! It is most certainly not going to be okay.”

Today’s appointment was supposed to be a splendid occasion where the doctor took off Maria’s cast and gave her arm the all clear for physical activity.

The pink cast was removed, but when they did an X-ray, the doctor felt it was wise for her to keep a cast on for another two weeks to ensure that it’s healed properly.

Needless to say, my girl, sporting a black—“because it matches my soul right now, Remy”—cast, is none-too-pleased.

And since Mrs. Baros got stuck at work and she’s had six weeks to warm up to me, and six weeks to become friendly with my mom, I’m the one who drove Maria here. Which means, I’m the one who has the privilege of trying to help her feel better about the whole situation.

“Babe, I know you’re upset, but—”

“There is no but here, Remy,” she cuts me off before I can continue. “There is nothing you can say or do that will make me feel better about this.”

She turns on her heel, flips her long brown hair over her shoulder, and stomps toward my Mustang that’s parked across the street from the medical center. Located just outside the city, her physician’s office is only about a twenty-minute drive from home and has street parking. Which, if you know New York, you know that’s like finding a unicorn.

My only choice is to follow behind her.

If it were any other girl, I might be annoyed, but Maria has this special way of being cute when she’s angry. Honestly, after spending the last month and half dating, I’ve yet to find a moment when she’s irritated me. It’s strange but kind of awesome at the same time.

Jude and Ty love telling me I’m “whipped” like the little assholes they are, and Flynn looks at me with serious eyes a lot. Of course, Winnie is Team Maria because she loves the fact that Maria has a little sister too. It means she has more opportunity to try to tag along with me.

I dutifully beep the locks when Maria reaches the passenger side, and I hop into the driver’s seat just as she’s closing her door.

“Are you okay?” I ask her carefully, trying to get a feel for where her head is at.

“I’m fine, Remy.”

One look at her and I almost want to laugh. Her arms are crossed, her brow is furrowed, and a little pout has found a home at the corners of her pretty mouth.

But I don’t dare laugh. I may just be a sixteen-year-old dude, but I’m way smarter than that. It’s never smart for a guy to laugh when a girl is angry. I’m also aware that the word fine doesn’t mean fine at all when it’s coming from a girl’s lips.

Her earlier words replay in my mind, There is nothing you can say or do that will make me feel better about this.

I take those words as a challenge. I know I can find a way to make Maria smile. She just needs a little pick-me-up, that’s all.

I slide a CD into my stereo, and a few seconds later, the band KISS is playing. The song is “I Was Made for Lovin’ You,” and normally, Maria bobs her head along to the beat and sings along with all the do-do-do’s.

“Seriously? Gene Simmons is not ideal for a time like this, Remy,” she grumbles and lets out an aggravated sigh. Her eyes stay fixated on the windshield, even though, with the car still parked, the scenery isn’t changing.

I grin. Okay, fine. No KISS.

Truthfully, songs from this band have a bit of a history. One that Maria utilizes every time she’s trying to get me to kiss her. I know it sounds crazy, but I’m the one who isn’t ready for our first official kiss.

Well, I am ready. Trust me, I’m ready. But I just want to make sure she’s ready. She’s a little younger than me, and I don’t know…she’s not like any of the other girls I’ve dated.

She’s different. Special. I don’t want to fuck any of it up.

And Gene Simmons and his band have spurred a game of “kiss” between the two of us. Maria puts on one of their songs, trying to get me to kiss her, and I kiss every part of her face but her lips.

It drives her nuts. But man, it’s kind of amazing at the same time. Although it’s probably also dangerous because it drives me nuts too. So nuts, in fact, that by the end of the night, I have to throw my ass in a cold shower when I get home. Let me tell you, blue balls aren’t a myth. They are the real deal.

I slide in another CD, but this time, the new song doesn’t cause a volatile reaction from Maria. It doesn’t exactly make her turn all happy either, but still, it’s progress.

It’s a Supremes greatest hits CD, and the song currently playing is called “Baby Love.”

I start to sing the lyrics out loud, giving my best Diana Ross impression. I even do a few doo-wop-style dance moves from the driver’s seat. But all I get is the side-eye from the pretty girl beside me.

Okay. Yeah. It’s time to bring out the big guns. The song Maria calls her “happy song.”

CD switched again, new song on, and Maria crosses her arms over her chest when the opening beats I know she knows like the back of her hand begin to play.

“Man, I love this song,” I say, and she refuses to look in my direction. “It always makes me happy. It’s almost like it’s my happy song, you know what I mean, Ria?”