Walk the Edge (Thunder Road, #2)(33)

I shrug. “Just wanted to be wild tonight. To act differently than I normally do.”

“Wild?”

“Wild,” I repeat, and I can’t help the smile that accompanies the word. I must sound insanely silly to him.

“Kissing a strange guy at a bar isn’t wild,” he says. “It’s cliché.”

“Is that right?”

“It is.”

He stares at my lips like he’s having blush-worthy thoughts that involve me. I should say something witty or intelligent, but I’ve been placed on mute.

“I’ll tell you what,” he continues. “If you want wild—if you want a kiss that breaks the rules, I’ll give you one, but not here, not now.”

I think my heart exploded. Razor of the Reign of Terror—the guy all the girls have dreamed about for years—has offered to kiss me. “When?”

“When I say.” His lips edge up, sending a thrill through my bloodstream. “If you have the nerve.”

“I’ll have it,” I exclaim.

“I’ll remember you agreed to this.”

“So will I. My mind is a steel trap.”

He laughs and I frown. He said something earlier about me being drunk and maybe I am, but he doesn’t understand. When I say I’ll remember, I will. “My mind’s messed up. Messed up like there’s something wrong with me.”

Razor’s face falls. “What?”

I wave off his concern. “It’s not brain damage. Well...maybe. I have this huge family, so maybe I was dropped on my head a couple times as a kid. It wouldn’t shock me. You should have seen how many times Liam dropped Joshua, but anyhow, according to my parents I was born with my wires crossed. You see, whenever I learn something that’s random, it stays.”

Razor scratches his jaw again, and this time I notice how smooth it is. I would give anything to skim my fingers against his skin. Now, that would be bold.

“What do you mean, it stays?”

I flutter my fingers in the air, mocking a magician’s assistant. “It stays in my head. All the random facts and knowledge, they never go away. Weird, right?”





RAZOR

WEIRD? THAT’S THE coolest thing I’ve heard. It also explains a ton about Breanna Miller. “You have a photographic memory.”

She shakes her head too fast, and because she’s drunk, she needs to stop or she’ll get dizzy again. “Not even close. I suck at math. Like, suck. As in the moment a number is brought up, it’s like I’m surrounded by darkness. And I don’t remember everything, but I have this crazy ability to remember facts. Really weird, random facts. Like, by the time I was three, I knew the state capitals.”

By the time I was three, I could recite the Reign of Terror creed. “All of them?”

“All of them.” She curls her fingers in and out like a fighter pointing out someone in the ring. “Bring it. Ask me for the capital of any state. This freak show carny ride is officially open for business.”

My finger taps against my leg. I’m curious, but I don’t like how she’s putting herself down. Breanna releases this sly smile. “Is the big, bad biker scared to play along?”

No one teases me, yet I’m captivated by her courage. “Fine. What’s the capital of Indiana?”

“Psh, everyone knows that. Indianapolis. Another one. A harder one.”

I search for a capital I know that I don’t think anyone else does. “Rhode Island.”

She claps her hands. “The boy knows how to play! Now, Rhode Island is the smallest US state in land area, but did you know it ranks number two in population density per square mile? That means there are a lot of people in each others’ space. Oh, and the capital is Providence.”

Damn. It’s like watching reverse Jeopardy. “That’s cool.”

Breanna runs her fingers through her black hair, then fists her hand at the ends. “If only everybody thought that way.”

The conversation I had with Chevy cues up. Middle School. Marc Dasher. The one time Breanna Miller attempted to show the world this trick. That year must have been hell for her.

“Random facts aren’t the only thing you’re good at, are they? You solved the brainteaser in English.” Her cute, kissable mouth gapes and I forge ahead. “I was sitting behind you.”

Breanna nibbles on the inside of her lip and studies me like she’s questioning the past few minutes between us. “No one knows this part about me. Not even Addison and Reagan.”

“I won’t tell. Any promise I make is set in stone.”

“You could be lying,” she says.

“Could. But why?”

“Good point.” She picks nonexistent lint off her dress. “Puzzles and brainteasers...that is like crack cocaine to me. It’s another weird part of my screwed-up mind. The moment I see a puzzle or a riddle, I start dissecting it, then reconstruct everything so it makes sense. It can be annoying sometimes. My mind tries to find logic in the illogical. Sometimes life chooses to be random.”

“Why didn’t you turn in the brainteaser?” I ask.

She ducks her head to avoid my eyes. “It’s easier to not be seen.”

I like looking at Breanna and I sure as hell like listening to her, too. If the pricks inside that bar or at school can’t appreciate what she has to offer, I do. “Hewitt made you feel bad.”