Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)(25)

“Because I like her.”

Noah blinks because words like that don’t come easily from me. He tilts up the bottle, finishes the rest and places the empty container on the counter. “That changes things.”

“As a friend,” I add quickly but then realize friends don’t kiss. Shit, I’ve messed this up.

The door to the bathroom opens and we both stare at Rachel. She plays with the gold bracelets on her wrist. “Sorry it took so long. My bracelets fell and rolled behind the sink and...it took a bit to get them out.”

Even Noah visibly cringes at the thought of anyone putting their hand in the two-inch gap behind the sink. “You should have called me,” I say. “I would have gotten them.”

Her gaze switches between me and Noah. “It’s all right. I got them. So—” she rocks on her toes “—are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Let’s roll.”

Rachel gathers her coat from the couch and pauses when Noah says her name. Damn, Noah, don’t screw this up.

“Rachel,” he repeats, obviously searching for something good to say. “It was nice to meet you. You should come back. Meet my girl, Echo. We’ll hang out or some shit like that.”

Or some shit like that. I want to slam his head and my own into the wall.

“Okay.” She has that what-the-hell look people get when they watch reality TV. “It was nice to meet you, too.”

When her back’s to us both, I mouth at Noah, Or some shit like that?

He mouths back, I’m trying.

I unbolt the door and when she steps into the hallway, I whisper to him, “Real elegant, man. And the girls thought you were f**king smooth.”

Noah laughs. “I am smooth, bro. But now I’m only smooth with Echo.”

Right before I shut the door, I flip Noah off. His laughter rings through the hallway.

At the bottom of the stairs, Rachel waits for me to open the door. I’ve never seen a girl wait like that before or known a girl who’d make the assumption that a guy would open it for her. Rachel was probably raised to expect guys to open doors, and she’s probably around enough guys who were taught to do it.

I like that she waits, and I like opening it for her. When I was a kid, I preferred the guys my mom dated who did crazy stuff like that.

The cold air clings to my bare arms as we walk out onto the sidewalk. The temperature has dropped dramatically since we first met at the drag race. A moment that feels like lifetimes ago.

Rachel shivers and places her hands in her coat pockets, leaving me unsure of what to do. Is she cold and I should put my arm around her shoulder, or is she telling me to stay clear? The muscles tighten in my neck and I shake my head to clear the chaos. Get a grip, man. How can I be confused over a girl?

“Your roommate seems nice,” she says with forced lightness.

Her attempt to make us okay rattles me—in a good way. I can’t think of many people who have ever tried to make things work with me. “Noah’s great, but he was off tonight.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure it was weird to see a girl in his apartment.”

I pull at my bottom earring. I’ve been with other girls. The ones who were interested in being with the guy with the tattoos and earrings for a night. I’ve never minded being used. But with Rachel, there’s a softness that hits her eyes when she looks in my direction, and it’s messing with me.

“Tell him I’m sorry I was there so late,” she continues. “I don’t want him to think badly of me.”

“You...ah...” Didn’t pick up that he thought you were a one-night stand? “Weren’t scared of Noah?”

Rachel sort of laughs, “No.” She pauses. “Should I be? He seemed friendly.”

“No, he’s cool. You bolted into the bathroom and...”

She dips her head, and as we pass a streetlight, I catch the red invading her cheeks. “Sorry about that. I did forget my bracelets and I did drop them, but it was weird, you know, meeting someone at 1:00 a.m.”

“Yeah.” Weirder than that? She was there at one in the morning and I hadn’t slept with her. I shove my hands into my jeans pockets and silently curse myself.

I glance at Rachel, and she quickly averts her eyes when I spot her spying on me. What the f**k does she see when she looks at me? If she saw what was inside, she’d be screaming. The outside is modest projection.

Rachel can’t like me because she doesn’t know me. The real me. For Rachel, life is still sunshine, rainbows and pink f**king fuzzy unicorns. I’m nothing but darkness, clouds and rats.

I should never have kissed her or brought her home. She deserves better than the brokenness inside me. I’ll hold on to tonight. Burn the memory of the way she’s looked at me into my mind because that’s as close as I’ll ever get to something like this again. Besides, if she saw me in daylight, away from the filth that I live in, she’d change her mind.

Just like Beth did the moment she left town.

Faster than I would have preferred, we reach the parking lot of the auto shop.

“What about your car?” she asks as I enter the security code.

The motor whines as the garage door lifts. “I’ll head over and fix the tire now.”

“Do you want help? I’m pretty crafty with a jack and a tire iron.”