Wreck You

by Jennifer Snyder

  It only took me about fifteen minutes to get entirely ready. When I headed back into the living room, Ian was still on the couch, messing around on his phone. The music I’d been blasting had been turned down low. Now that I wasn’t scared shitless, thinking some maniac was breaking in, I was able to take in his appearance. He was dressed in a pair of khaki cargo shorts, a white and tan striped collared shirt, and sandals. Comfortable and casual. I liked it; it suited him.

  “Ready?” I turned off the music and smiled.

  “Absolutely.” He stood and tucked his phone away.

  I picked up my purse from the little table beside my front door and slipped on some ballerina flats. Locking the door behind us, I followed Ian to his truck with nervous butterflies zooming around in my belly. Ian opened the passenger door for me, and I slipped inside. His truck smelled of him—all guy deodorant with a slight amount of peppermint. Glancing around, I took in the clean interior. I’d been too focused on not tossing my cookies the other night to notice anything about the inside of his truck. Mild surprise swam through me; I’d expected a dirty work truck with empty soda bottles and wrappers from food littering the floorboards. This vehicle was spick and span. You could tell a lot about a person based off their vehicle—mine said I was slightly chaotic and mildly organized. At least I felt that was what a person would think when they saw the clothes strewn across my backseat and my cupholders filled with pens, loose change, and paperclips.

  “Where are we going?” I asked once Ian situated himself in the driver’s seat and cranked the engine.

  He backed out of the parking space and glanced at me as he shifted his truck into drive. “I’m starved, so I figured we’d grab something to eat at The Point. Do you like that place?”

  He was so cute right now with his eyebrows pulled together and his voice trembling with nerves. I found myself loving the contradiction of him—big and burly with boyish, shy tendencies.

  “Yeah, that’s fine.” I smiled.

  Dinner, that was a start, but I wondered what we would be doing after. It had been a while since I’d been on an actual date. Jimmy never took me anywhere…other than to the bedroom. Come to think of it, I hadn’t been on a true date in over a year. Wow, my dating life was a little depressing. I guess I wasn’t the standard date type of girl.

  “Cool.” He nodded.

  Rolling down my window, I forced myself to relax. Everything that had happened in the last week was beginning to take a toll not only on my mind, but also on the image I had of myself. I wasn’t normally a self-conscious person, but being blindsided and completely betrayed by Jimmy didn’t make me feel too great about myself. Maybe I needed this date with Ian more than I’d initially thought—a chance to spend some time with a quality guy. My eyes skimmed his profile.

  “What?” He took his eyes off the road for a split-second, obviously taking note of the way I was staring at him.

  “Nothing,” I said with a shake of my head and a small smile.

  Reaching over, I cranked up the radio and messed with the stations. Every single one came in unclear and staticky. It took everything in me not to plug in my iPhone and switch on some Spotify randomness.

  “Your radio sucks,” I muttered.

  “It plays the country and rock stations fine.” Ian smirked.

  I tipped my head sideways and glared at him. “Country and rock…what a combo.” My eyes traveled along his profile again. “I guess I could see that.”

  “My music preferences are written on my face, huh?”

  “Yeah, I can see it. Besides, you’re an electrician, isn’t it like a prerequisite? You must listen to both genres?”

  He laughed. The sound of it vibrated through the interior of the truck, and soothed my butterflies a little more. This was nice. With Jimmy, I didn’t think there was ever a time when I’d made him genuinely laugh.

  “Is my music preference written all over me?” I questioned him.

  Ian’s eyes left the road for a moment to take me in. It was only for a second, but that was all it took for me to feel warmth slip through my lower region as I watched his eyes trail over me, devouring me.

  “Yeah, it is.” He’d shifted his eyes back to the road long ago, but the feel of them still lingering across my skin remained. “You’re the type who secretly knows every word to all the Katy Perry songs, right?” he teased. His lips twisted into a smug grin.

  I laughed, because it was true. Roar was like my theme song while trying to get back home on my trip. I probably played it ten times on the drive home. “You pegged me.”

  “Damn, I’m good.”

  The rough baritone to his voice did things to me. I fidgeted in my seat as we pulled into the tiny parking lot of The Point. Once he cut the engine, I climbed out. Ian had started to jump out and race around to my side to open my door, but I’d beat him to it. An expression I couldn’t name crossed his face, and I flashed him a wicked smile.

  “I’m glad you don’t think chivalry is dead and all that, but I’d really prefer to open my own car doors, thank you.” I crinkled my nose. “It’s just awkward to me when guys do it, not that many have.”

  Ian smoothed a hand over the back of his neck and flashed me the same cute, boyish grin as earlier. “Okay, noted.”

  I pulled my purse higher up on my shoulder. Ian pressed the lock button on his keychain and we headed inside. Once we reached the restaurant door, he held it open and motioned for me to step through first.

  “I’ll let you get away with the car door because you asked, but my mama would slap me silly if she saw me walking inside an establishment first without holding the door open for a woman,” Ian said, his breath hot against my cheek. Goose bumps prickled across my skin at the sensation.

  I wanted to kick myself. Initially, I’d told him I wasn’t ready to date anyone yet—which I truthfully wasn’t, not if I was going to constantly compare him to Jimmy in my mind—and then I’d agreed to tonight. I’d already promised myself nothing would happened, and now, here I was, wanting to kiss him until we were both breathless.

  “That’s fine.” I stepped in front of him and smiled over my shoulder. “Because I expect this.” I winked.

  A slow smile stretched across his face, and I spun to search for a seat. There was a table with two chairs at my left directly in front of the window. Walking over, I sat in the seat facing the door. If I was going to be on a date with someone, then I wanted to be damn sure I stayed his center of attention. I didn’t want him glancing up at every person walking through.

  “Are you ordering a beer or a sweet tea?” I asked once he’d sat and got himself situated. His brows drew together, and I fought the urge to laugh. “It’s not a test, just a question.”

  Ian ran a hand through his hair. “A beer, but I promise you, I don’t have lazy, sloppy sex.”

  Unable to stop myself, I burst into a fit of laughter. The look on his face was hilarious; he’d completely taken what I’d said the other night to heart. Did he think I had formed some sort of unwavering opinion of him based off his alcoholic beverage choice?

  “Relax. I’m all about you proving that to me at some point,” I blurted out.

  And there I went, flirting to the extreme, which is exactly the kind of crap that attracts douchebags like Jimmy. While Ian was definitely no Jimmy, I still needed to behave myself.

  There was no way I was sleeping with him tonight. That was one rule I was sticking to regardless of how much I flirted. Flirting wasn’t what got me into trouble; it was the sleeping with them right off the bat.

  “Really.” It wasn’t a question. I thought he meant for it to come out as a playful attempt at flirting, but instead, it sounded slightly strangled and his cheeks had tinted pink.

  I’d embarrassed him.

  Being so used to guys who were confident and cocky, it was a breath of fresh air to see a guy blush. I kept my eyes trained on him, fighting the urge to make some cutesy noise from the back of my throat I would normally make at the sight of
a cuddly kitten.

  Our waitress came, breaking the moment up, and we each ordered a beverage—me a Cosmo, and him a Bud Light. How he could drink that piss beer, I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was a country boy on a budget thing. If I were ever to drink beer, it would have to be something with some oomph like Corona or Heineken, and absolutely nothing with the word light on it.

  “So, I know you enjoy pop music…is there anything else about you that you’d like to fess up to on a first date?” he asked. His incredibly green eyes met mine, and for the briefest of moments, I got the impression he didn’t do this whole traditional dating scene much either.

  “Technically, this isn’t our first date, it’s our second,” I muttered with a smile. “Yep, I’m counting the other night at the bar as the first.”

  Our waitress walked over with our drinks, pausing the moment building between us. “Are you two ready to order, or would you like another minute?”

  Ian eyed me. “Are you ready?”

  Nodding, I shifted my eyes to the waitress with the tiny waist I wished I had. The wings smothered in their supposed “famous sauce” sounded amazing, but seeing this chick made me second-guess my choice. I opted for something lighter instead. “Just a house salad with Italian dressing on the side, please.”

  I was taking the role I always hated in movies…the role of the girl who ate like a damn bird on dates, as though it was a freaking bad thing to let the guy know you enjoyed food or something.

  “I’ll take the wings in the mild sauce please, with fries,” Ian ordered. I wanted nothing more than to shoot him death rays with my eyes as soon as the words left his mouth.

  The waitress jotted down everything and grabbed our menus. She flashed Ian a longer than necessary smile before walking away. I glowered at her as she sashayed her little hips. Resting my elbows on the table, I accentuated something skinny mini didn’t have—boobs—and continued the conversation with Ian.

  “I like driving fast, dancing with no shoes, and peanut butter on my pancakes,” I said, taking a sip of my drink.

  “Peanut butter on your pancakes? My oldest sister is strange like that too.”

  “Seriously?” I’d never met anyone who enjoyed his or her pancakes that way before.

  “Seriously.” He sipped his beer, his eyes never leaving mine.

  My cell chimed from inside my purse. I fished it out and glanced at the screen. Crap. A text from Jimmy lit up my screen.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  IAN

  I wasn’t sure if it was a text or a phone call, but Lauren’s entire demeanor took a nosedive the moment she found her phone and looked at the screen. Taking a swig of my beer, I watched her, wondering if I should ask who it was or if everything was okay. The desire to say something built inside of me the longer I watched her stare at the screen and frown.

  “Who is it?” I asked, my brain not realizing my lips were actually going to force the words out. My heart hammered, as that all too personal question hung suspended in the air between us.

  “It’s my, um…ex,” she said. Her voice was low and sad. I hated it, much preferring the playful, happy Lauren from seconds before. “He’s texting me.”

  “The one you had your horrible vacation to Greece with?” I asked.

  My stomach rolled. I took another swig of my beer and offered her a smile, but it faded quickly. What if she was second-guessing this date? What if she’d been waiting for him to text or call these last few days? What if now that he had, she regretted being here with me?

  “That’s the one.” She set her cell on the table without responding to the message.

  “Is this a bad thing?” I had to ask. All the questions were buzzing through me like little wasps, stinging me from the inside out.

  “Just unexpected,” she insisted. She sat back in her chair and stared at the table. A loud sigh passed her perfect lips. “Okay. Ready for some truth?”

  Her words made the fears swarming through my mind grow to gigantic proportions. This was it, the moment when she would say she was going on this ridiculous date with me as payback or something. I took another swig of my beer, ready for the letdown, preparing myself for a destructive blow. Steeling myself not to react when she said I was a rebound guy, an attempt to make her ex jealous.

  “Jimmy had a family there he never told me about—a baby girl only a few months old. He strung me along with him on a trip his parents had bought for him to come home and meet his child, and possibly fall in love with his ex all over again. I wasn’t supposed to be there, not according to his family.” Lauren leaned against the tabletop, and covered her face as best she could with her hands. A dramatic sigh expelled from her. “His mother hated me and so did his ex, just like they should have. It was the worst.”

  I laughed, for whatever reason. Lauren’s eyes bored into me from across the table. I knew I’d offended her with my sudden outburst, but I’d thought she was using this date as payback because her guy couldn’t commit or something. Damn, I’d been way the hell off.

  “What’s so funny?” Her lips twisted at the corners, as if my laugh was contagious.

  “My thoughts about that text were nowhere near what you just said. It’s a delirious sense of relief bellowing from me right now. I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at your situation, I promise,” I muttered between breaths of air.

  “Enlighten me,” she demanded.

  There was no way I could say what I’d actually been thinking. She would damn sure be offended then. I ran a hand through my hair and dropped my eyes to the beat-up tabletop. “I don’t know about that.”

  She leaned back in her chair and glared at me. “No, I insist. I could use a good laugh.”

  Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath, and then polished off the remainder of my beer before speaking. “I thought this might have been a payback date.”

  “What the hell is a payback date?”

  “The type you go on when you want to get back at someone for how they treated you or to make them jealous,” I admitted.

  She twirled her necklaces between her fingers and locked eyes with me. “And why would you think that? Are you insinuating I went on this date because I’m using you?”

  Damn it, she’d been just as offended as I’d thought she would be. I needed to fix this.

  “No.” The word tumbled from my mouth too quickly to seem believable. “Yeah. I figured Mr. Money Bucks took you to Greece and didn’t propose or whatever like you’d thought he would, so you decided to go out with someone else to get back at him and make him realize you wouldn’t wait around forever. But I didn’t mean I thought you were using me, per se.”

  I licked my lips and glanced around, wondering if I made eye contact with the waitress if she would come back so I could order another drink? And where was our food? Any type of save would be appreciated right now. I’d fucked this date up royally.

  Lauren stared at me from across the table. I couldn’t make out anything from her expression. For all I knew, she was about to get up and walk right out the damn door. Thankfully, our waitress came with our food then. I ordered another beer and refused to meet Lauren’s eyes.

  Silence crafted between us. I picked up a fry and popped it into my mouth. When I finally brought my eyes to hers, she opened her mouth to speak.

  “First of all, I’m not that shallow. Second, Jimmy and I were never in a type of relationship where I would ever think about those things with him. It was all about the sex.” Her eyes dropped to the salad in front of her, and I couldn’t tell if it was because she was ashamed of the relationship she’d shared with him or if she realized how messed up it was once she’d said the words out loud. “And third, I really sort of…like you. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t be here. Trust me on that.”

  I smiled—a goofy, ear-to-ear, satisfied smile. “I really sort of like you, too.”

  Her cell vibrated across the tabletop. She scooped it up, and her thumbs went flying across the keyboard as she typed out a message.

&
nbsp; “There, maybe he’ll leave me the hell alone now.” She sounded satisfied and victorious.

  Popping another fry in my mouth, I eyed her. “What did you say?”

  “If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it in the dictionary somewhere between shit and syphilis.” She smirked.

  My jaw slacked. “That is a damn good one-liner!”

  “Thank you.” She squirmed in her seat and picked up her fork. “By the way, I hate that you ordered the one thing I wanted, but can’t eat.”

  I glanced down at my wings and fries. “Oh. Why can’t you have any? Are you on some diet or something?”

  Shit. Why had I asked? That was one of those things you were never allowed to ask a woman. Never.

  She sighed. “No, not really. I’m just trying to eat healthier.”

  “This isn’t something I normally eat either. I’ll have to work out for a few extra hours at some point this week.”

  “Something I need to start doing again.” She crammed a forkful of salad into her mouth.

  “So tell me about your trip to Greece. It couldn’t all have been bad. Did you see anything cool? Do they even speak English?”

  She nodded, and a small chuckle rumbled from her. “They all start learning English in the third grade actually, which was really helpful.”

  “I bet.” I picked up a wing and took a bite.

  “I saw just about every historical landmark there, which isn’t as cool as it sounds.”

  “Not into that sort of thing?” I asked, even though it was apparent from the look on her face.

  She shook her head. “No, not really.”

  “Okay, so tell me the most off-the-wall things you learned.”

  “They put toilet paper in the trash can and never in the toilet.” She took a sip of her drink, and her eyes lit with laughter. “Most of their toilets have chains you pull or some sort of pedal you step on to make it flush. It was like a puzzle every time I went someplace new to pee.”