Interim(70)

“About?” Jeremy asked.

She searched for a lie. “I . . . I had something weird happen to me on the way over here. That’s all. Stopped at a light and someone knocked on my car window. Scared the shit out of me.”

He didn’t believe her for a second, mostly because she averted her eyes as she spoke. His instinct told him it had everything to do with Brandon.

“I’m totally cool. Just gave me the jitters.”

“The jitters, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

He chuckled.

“What?” she demanded.

“Nothing.” He threw up his hands.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I’ve just never heard a teenager say ‘jitters.’ It’s cu—different.” Oh God, he almost said “cute.” What a stupid word for a guy to say.

“Jitters?” Regan asked.

“Yeah.”

They fell silent.

“I feel like a dork,” she mumbled.

“Well, then you’re in the right place,” Jeremy replied.

Regan grinned. “Can I hang out for a little while? I don’t wanna interrupt or anything. I’m just not ready to go home.”

“Let me understand this: You wanna hang out with me on your birthday?”

“You seem confused.”

“I am.”

“Is it weird I wanna hang out?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why’s that weird?”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And because it’s a big night for you. And this garage is gross. And there are better people to spend your time with.”

She thought for a moment. “I can’t think of one.”

Wave of intense heat. He wasn’t expecting it. He wasn’t expecting the sweat to break out under his arms either—like his metabolism was revving after a particularly grueling interval training session.

“Well?” she asked, waiting. “May I? And will you shut that door? I don’t like all the darkness. I feel exposed.” She shivered.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, walking over to the garage door and closing it.

She pulled herself up on the counter and cocked her head, considering him. “You’re not very nice to yourself.”

“What?”

“You act like you don’t matter. You act like I’m crazy for wanting to spend time with you.”

He scratched his flushed cheek.

“Did they beat all the self-worth out of you?”

Shocking question. How dare she ask him something like that!

“Not all,” he replied quietly. “Most, but not all.”

Only when he uttered the words aloud did he realize they were actually true. They didn’t take everything from him. If they had, he would have hung from a rope a long time ago. His mission kept him alive.

“If anything, you’re cooler than all of them,” he heard Regan say.

He smiled. “How do you figure?” Yeah, he needed an ego boost.

“Well, you can build cars. Brandon’s pretentious self can barely pump his own gas.”

“He’s too good for it, or he really doesn’t know how to work the pump?”

“Both, but I think it’s more to do with him not knowing how to work the pump.”

Jeremy searched for other tools to continue his work on the car.

“You snowboard. That’s hot. I mean cool! That’s cool,” Regan said, grimacing. “Brandon skis. Totally lame.”

Jeremy smirked. “Agreed.”

“You should show me sometime.”

“How to snowboard?”

“Yeah.”

He felt the immediate need to flirt. Real, in-your-face flirting, because it was dark outside, and the garage was shut up tight, and he had her all to himself.

“I don’t know, Regan. You may not like it,” he began, abandoning his project for a table in the far corner of the room. He searched until he found it, rolled up crisp and brand new.

“What do you mean? I know it’s hard,” Regan replied.

“Not that. I don’t know if you’d be comfortable going like this, and this is how the chicks do it.”

He unrolled the poster, then peeked around the left side. “You got something like this you could wear?”