Girl Crush(42)

“You ready?”

I bubbled with excitement. Old cars brought back fond memories for me, and sadly, this was the closest thing I’d had to intimacy in ages. It wasn’t a date, but being with Collier was just easy. I’d insisted on driving my car since he refused to allow me access to his. Being behind the wheel of the Camaro was better than any date I’d had with BOB in recent weeks. Even if there wasn’t any penetration, I was more aroused than I should have been. Collier seemed apprehensive to be a passenger, but I was ready to wow him with my driving prowess. The smile on my lips threatened to break my face.

He folded his hands in front of his chest in mock prayer. “God, give me strength.”

“You’re so melodramatic. I swear I won’t redline it or go over a hundred. Scout’s honor.” I winked at him and took off toward the car, giggling.

I slid into the seat, and the leather welcomed my skin like a marshmallow, molding around me in warm comfort. My eyes closed as I set my hands in my lap just to become one with the vehicle. The scent of the leather filled my senses, and I stretched my feet out to the pedals, firmly pressing the clutch to the floor, and my right hovered over the brake. A smile graced my face, and I opened my eyes to find the gearshift. When I wrapped my hand around the knob, I glanced over at Collier to catch a grin on his cheeks and a sly look in his eyes.

“Trust me, Collier. I respect the car.” And I did. Men never got that about me. It wasn’t just the speed the engine was capable of—it was the way it purred, the vibrations, the hum. My dad had taught me to appreciate the power. Collier was about to see just how much I loved automobiles.

He shook his head as though he didn’t believe me, but he’d see. I may be a girl about everything else in my life, but this was one area I’d rival any man. He punched the address into the GPS, and I eased out of the driveway. Shifting out of reverse and into first, the transition went smoothly. I slid my sunglasses down my face and couldn’t help the grin that snuck across my lips. I played it cautiously until I hit the on-ramp to the interstate, but the instant the tires turned onto the ramp, I engaged, running through the gears before we joined the stream of traffic, and hit the highway at a hundred miles an hour. When I glanced over, his smirk told me he was impressed. I didn’t push the limits and didn’t take chances, but I enjoyed the drive. My core hummed, my center warmed, I hadn’t been this turned on in months…maybe years. Sadly…I hadn’t even been touched. I didn’t know why driving gave me confidence, but when everything was wrong in the world, getting behind a steering wheel brought me nirvana, and doing it with Collier next to me took it to a whole new dimension. It had replaced the lack of physical affection in my life, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

The car show was enormous. Rows and rows of cars lined the field with hoods propped up, doors open to expose the interiors, and proud owners lingering to answer questions. Some of the vehicles were for sale, but the number of zeros after those dollar signs exceeded my financial possibilities. When we reached the Mustangs, my heart tried to explode. The excitement for old cars was ridiculous.

“Giselle?”

I swung my head around, meeting Collier’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“What do you think?”

I couldn’t stop the gush. “I’m enamored. I could spend hours staring at these cars. My dad would be in heaven. I love seeing the ones that have been restored to their original condition. Most restoration jobs fail in the paint job.”

He stared at me like I had three heads just before he started laughing. “Really? Do tell.”

“There were limited colors in the fifties and sixties, and the pearl and metallic didn’t exist. It makes me sad to see flawless restorations with a mirrored exterior or some equally obnoxious paint.” I continued exploring through the windows of the ’66 Fastback in front of me—memories of my youth bombarded me as if they were yesterday.

“You really like this stuff, huh?”

I stood and turned back to face him. “Yeah, I do. You’re bored, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “I’m good.”

“Why did you come if you weren’t interested?”

“I thought you could use the break. You were pretty upset the other night, and if hanging out with old cars for a few hours brings a smile to your face, then it’s worth the time.”

My head cocked slightly while I contemplated his statement. Before I could formulate a reply, he darted off in the direction of some girl who called his name. I watched for a moment. She was pretty in a plastic way, everything about her was perfect. The woman was young, probably in her mid-twenties, with long, blond curls. When West tossed his head back to laugh, this pain struck my stomach and then crept into my heart. I forced my attention back to the Mustang and the couple who owned it.

I didn’t know how long it had been, but it was long enough that I’d made my way through all the Fords…thoroughly. I had no right to be upset. Collier was nothing to me. He was Beck’s brother—there was no relationship between us. He’d been great the last couple of days, but West believed I was a skirt lifter. I couldn’t be bothered by his lack of interest. But regardless, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fight the snide expression on my face or the clip in my tone when he returned to my side.

After fifteen minutes of trying to smooth things over, West grabbed my elbow. “What’s the deal, Giselle? What happened?”