Free The Awesome by Eva Darrows Page A

was super spoiled or if his parents just liked nice cars, but I had to admit I was impressed—them be nice wheels. “Whoa.”
    “What?” Mom came to stand beside me, staring at my flashy chariot with envy all over her face. “That’s an M3. You can kill him and take his car if you want. I’ll help you hide the body. Soylent Green for everyone.”
    “It’s probably his mom’s.”
    “If so, I want to shake that woman’s hand. Maybe make out with her.” Mom had something of a car fetish, and would stare at glossy magazine photos of Aston Martins and Bugattis like a pervert stared at nudie centerfolds. It went without saying Ian’s BMW, borrowed or not, scored him immediate awesome points in her book.
    “No killing my date. I might need him later.” I hugged her with one arm before heading for the door. “And no making out with his mom. That’d weird him out. Me, too, for that matter.”
    “Oh, fine. Have fun. Don’t do anything I would do,” she called after me. “And be careful with that back. It’s glued, not stitched.”
    “Uh huh.”
    “If he’s a bad lay, steal the beemer on basic principle.”
    “I’m leaving now, Mom.”
    When I emerged from the house, Ian climbed from the car and smiled, heading towards the passenger door to hold it open for me. He’d forsaken the basketball jersey for an untucked button down shirt, black jeans, and a pair of sneakers so white they had to be new.
    “Hey.”
    “Hey” was still only a three-letter-long greeting, but at least it wasn’t “’Sup”.
    “Nice car,” I said, climbing in.
    “Thanks. It’s my dad’s.”
    “My mom might mug him for it. Just a warning.” He smirked and headed around to his side. I reached for my seat belt and winced when my back spasmed. The cut didn’t gape or ooze, but it definitely liked to remind me that it was there and sucking whenever I moved.
    To Ian’s credit, he noticed my discomfort. “You okay?”
    “Yeah, went on a hunt and got a war wound last night. It’s sore.”
    “Need a hand with your seat belt?”
    I hated admitting it, but I was pretty sure I did. I offered the buckle to him. He was careful not to tug too hard as he clicked it into place. When it neatly bisected my left boob, he went to adjust it, then thought better of it, like I’d mistake his help for groping.
    “Thanks,” I said, suppressing a smirk.
    “No problem. You okay to, like, go out or...”
    “Oh, you’re stuck with me for the night whether you like it or not.”
    He glanced at me, the corners of his mouth dropping. His fingers raked through his hair. “I’m not stuck. I wouldn’t have asked you to hang if I didn’t want to.” I wasn’t sure if I’d sounded that sarcastic or if he was that sensitive. It could have been a bit of both, which meant this date was screwed from the onset and I’d have been better off staying home and eating popcorn with Mom. Hoarders was on, and they showcased crazy cat ladies.
    I am so bad at this.
    “Sorry. I didn’t mean... crap. We’re not out of the driveway and I’m being a bitch,” I said.
    “Nah. I think we’re figuring each other out. We should have done that before, at the party, but—” His face flushed, tiny brushes of color creeping across his cheeks. “—except I was stupid. I’d like to start over if that’s cool.”
    If starting over meant we got past the walking on eggshells bit, I was all for it. The only problem was we’d have to pretend the other night hadn’t happened to accomplish it. I needed the other night to happen, or at least, I needed it to happen again. Hopefully he wouldn’t clam up on me and get prudish because he thought that’s what good guys did for girls they’d wronged. The last thing I needed was to wave my panties above my head like a flag and for him to tell me he respected me too much to consider sleeping with me.
    I didn’t know how to say those things without admitting the full truth that I was only out for the bang, and I wasn’t