“You’re right, I don’t,” I tell her, wrapping my hand around her tiny waist and hiking her body up my thigh. I position her legs on me and hold onto her.
“Thank you. Jesus,” she mutters and I tell myself she enjoyed the ride here just as much as I did. Even though she would never, fucking ever, admit it.
She cuddles up to me, resting her head in the crook of my shoulder and folding her arms into herself. This is officially my new favorite thing. She feels so small and… sweet in my arms. Not the stressed out ball of energy she usually is.
If you would have told me yesterday, or hell, a minute ago, that she would be voluntarily snuggling up on me I don’t know that I would have believed you, but now it feels like she belongs here. Like her body was made to fit perfectly into mine.
I run my fingers through her soft hair and duck my head, inhaling her scent which is seriously intoxicating. I have a feeling I’m not gonna get this again, maybe ever, so I take it in while it’s mine.
She lets out a satisfied murmur and says, “Tonight was so exciting; the best night I’ve had since being here. But damn, coming down from that rush is exhausting.”
The words best and night make me extremely happy. I smile into her hair and tell her, “Close your eyes. I’ll wake you up when we’re back in Carver.”
“Ugh. Do we have to go back to Carver? It was so great feeling like I wasn’t even in Georgia tonight.”
“We’ll have to pick up my truck, but I mean, if you really don’t want to go back we can go anywhere you want. I’ll drive you.”
She laughs quietly into my chest and snuggles in further. “Don’t tease me, Nash.”
I laugh too. I don’t think I am teasing her. I think I would seriously take off with her if she would go with me.
Her breaths are already becoming deep and her body becomes heavy as it relaxes into mine. I wrap my arms all the way around her and hold her close. Two minutes later she’s out.
“Jesus, she sounds like a damn cat,” Nate says.
I duck my face into her hair and smile. She’s mewling and it does sound a little bit like she’s meowing. It’s fucking adorable.
I don’t move for the rest of the ride except to adjust my arms when she shifts in her sleep. By the time we get to Carver she’s a little ball of warmth on my lap. I’m tempted to ask my dad if he wouldn’t mind driving for a few more hours. I don’t want to wake her. I don’t want to move her. I don’t want her going to Angel.
My dad parks the truck and he and Nate get out. I hold her for a few more moments before rubbing my hand up and down her arm and telling her, “Hey, we’re home.”
She moans sleepily, then shifts and buries her face in my neck. I can feel her lips on my skin and her breasts pressed into me and it’s becoming damn difficult to keep my arousal at bay. “Can’t I just sleep here for the night,” she whispers, probably still half asleep and unaware that she’s asking to spend the night on me.
“Come on,” I tell her, opening the door. Now that we’re back in reality it’s not a good idea for me to be playing pretend with her, acting like she belongs on my lap. “I’ll bring you inside.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, her lips still dangerously close to me, and I step out of the truck, holding her. I knew she was tiny, that the huge shirts that hang off her breasts like a mumu made her look about four times bigger than she actually is, but damn, she weighs nothing. I like it. Yes, I’m a stupid, unevolved guy whose ego is fed by crap like this. Sue me. My last girlfriend, my only girlfriend, was five-ten.
By the time I get her inside and on the couch I’m still holding onto her like my life depends on it but she’s starting to rouse. She stretches then slides off my lap. “Oh my god, I slept hard. Sorry about that.”
“I don’t mind you sleeping on me, kitty cat.”
She scrunches up her face at me. “Eww, did you just call me kitty cat? Please don’t call me any gross sexist names.”
I laugh at her. “You sound like a cat when you sleep.”
“Oh,” she says. “Crap, that’s embarrassing.”
“It was cute. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
She leans against the couch and tucks her legs under herself. “Just give me a minute to wake up and then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“I know you want to get to Angel, but if you’re too tired, you know you can hang out here as long as you want to.”
She looks up at me, that look with the big innocent eyes that I’m starting to love, like she’s considering it. And then my dad walks through the back door. Thanks, Nick. The guy’s got great timing.
“What the hell are you two doing? Come on, I made coffee, get your asses up,” he reaches out a hand to Presley, who’s sitting up now. She takes it and he pulls her up. She looks at me like a lost puppy who needs rescuing.
“I was just about to bring Presley home,” I tell him, standing my own ass up.
“You got a curfew?” he asks her.
“No. I mean, well yeah, but it’s not for a few hours.”
“I’m not actually brining her home, she needs to get to her boyfriend’s house.” I don’t know why, but my dad has been overly nice to her all night and if it’s because he thinks she’s with me, it’s about time we clear that shit up.
He looks at her with disappointment and I want to punch him.
She stares right at him looking like a scorned child. “He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just considering the whole dating thing at the moment, but I don’t even know if that’s a possibility because he’s got some issues and it’s not really his house I’m supposed to be at, it’s his garage and half the school will be there so I was just about to tell Nash that I don’t want to go because I’m tired and I don’t really feel like being at a party.”
“Great,” he says with a huge smile. “You can stay with us.”
“Umm,” she stalls, looking at me. “Yeah, I mean, if you’re okay with that?”
I tamper down the relief and excitement building in my body and tell her, “I just told you, you can stay as long as you want to.”
She smiles at me, and then at my dad. “Okay.”
With that, he’s dragging her across the house and out the back door. I trail behind them, slightly baffled by both of their behavior. He’s got an arm around her and is using the other one to animate whatever the hell he’s talking about.
This is not typical Nick behavior. Not that he’s unfriendly, he’s not at all, but he’s never this friendly and generally ignores my high school friends when I bring them around. Especially the females. And what the hell is up with her? Choosing to hang out here, with us, instead of getting to the guy she’s been obsessing over who is finally willing to give her a shot. God, that crap still annoys the hell out of me.
Inside the pole barn, guys from our crew and their ladies are hanging out. Nick brings Presley into the fray, but I hang back, going to my car, using it as an excuse to take a minute. I don’t know why. I watch as he brings her to his little coffee table that he only uses in the mornings and I can’t believe he actually brewed her a pot of coffee. I know it was for her because no one around here is drinking anything but alcohol. But she fell asleep on the way home, and he’s going out of his way to give her what she needs. What the hell.
Nate comes over to me, follows my gaze and says, “What the hell is up with Dad?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“I guess the better questions is, what the hell is up with you and that girl?”
“Presley?”
“Was there another girl you brought to your race and were acting all weird over in the truck?”
“Weird over?”
“I was stuck sitting next to you the whole time, dumbass. You weren’t treating her the way you treat your other hookups. I mean, outside of the luscious ass comment.”
“She’s not a hookup. She was supposed to be taking pictures.”
“Uh huh, whatever. You were weird with her, that’s all
I’m saying. I mean, hell brother, you were…sniffing her. And smiling to yourself like an idiot the whole time she was meowing on your lap.”
I know he’s right. It was like she was the only thing in that truck and I ignored my dad and brother the entire time. And I wasn’t feeding her cheesy lines or trying to cop a feel.
“She’s weird too. I’ve never seen a girl exercise that level of self-control around a Carter man. Girl didn’t even giggle, or rub her hands all over you.”
“Right, asshole. Because it’s not like that.”
“It’s like something. I just can’t figure out what the hell it is.”
Jesus. Apparently I’m transparent. I can’t handle where this is going, so I finally man up and head over to the group.
She’s made herself comfortable in the circle of car guys. I listen as she asks them questions about the cars and who we race, and where we race, and how it all started. I’m sure she’s got them all wrapped around her finger. There’s nothing these guys like more than talking about cars, especially to someone who knows nothing but apparently wants to understand everything.
“Is Nash the youngest racer?” she asks like I’m not even standing across the loose circle from her.
“He’s definitely the baby,” Jessie, one of the wives says, looking at me with a sweet smile. “Nick, the dumbass, has been letting him race since before he even had a license.”
“Which is the only reason he’s so good,” Kent, her old man, pipes in.
“He’d kick all your asses no matter what. He was taught by the best,” my dad retorts.
“Shut it, old man,” Kent says with affection.
“Wait, so do you guys compete against each other too? I mean, even though you’re a team?”
“Well, yeah,” Dad says, “We have a ranking system within our crew and if you want to move up it, you gotta beat the guy ahead of you.”
She nods, looks back at Kent and asks, “So where do you rank?”
Everyone snickers at that. Kent’s had a rough couple of years with his broke down Thunderbird. He’s been trying to make it back onto the list, but it’s been a while since he’s been there.
“I like her,” Alicia, another one of the wives, tells me, with a jab to my side. “She’s spunky.”
Spunky would be one way to describe her.
“You assholes aren’t gonna be laughing when T Swift is healthy again.”
“Is that your car?”
“Big bloc, big tire, sixty seven Ford Thunderbird,” he says proudly.
“And you named her after Taylor Swift?” she asks, confused.
Everyone busts out laughing. He gets so much crap about it. He’s had that car since before she was born and I’m pretty sure he still has no idea who the girl that hijacked his car’s name is but either way, he refuses to change it.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry. Clearly that’s not what you were going for with the car name. It’s a T bird right, and probably a really fast one, obviously since it’s a race car. I’m sure there’s nothing… pretty… or… poppy…or heartbroken about your T Swift. I mean, I’m sure your T Swift is totally badass.” Presley’s mumbling just makes everyone laugh harder. She looks at me, silently begging me to help her out.
“Don’t feel bad. Everyone gives him crap about it,” I tell her.
She shakes her head at herself and keeps her big mouth occupied by drinking her coffee. My dad wraps a comforting hand around her shoulder and she leans into him. Seriously, what the hell is up with the two of them?
Eventually, everyone breaks off into their own conversations. I’m talking to Jay, Bobby and Nate about our plans for Nate’s Nova. The grand I got in my pocket is necessary. We have three race cars and one, if not all of them, is constantly needing basic maintenance or complete overhauls. Nate’s been having trouble just staying in the top five of our crew, much less winning races against out of towners. Hopefully in a couple of weeks all three of us will be competing.
I keep my eye on Presley who’s now sitting on one of the many broke down chairs we have sitting around, surrounded by some of the other ladies. The site irks me a little. I’ve never brought anyone into this circle. This has always been my world where I can relax and just be and not worry about any of the high school drama. Even with Tatum, I didn’t really like brining her around this group.
I think about what Summer said to me about how Presley is my particular brand of sexy and I think she may be right. No one, but me and maybe my old man seems to be intimidated by or focused on how beautiful she is. Or maybe it’s just the way that she managed to become one of them so quickly. The guys here respect each other’s old ladies.
“Presley,” my dad calls out, getting everyone’s attention. He waves her over to where he’s standing. He’s got the photo album out. Jesus, I’ve never been so irritated with the guy.
Nate laughs, “You better get over there and do some damage control.”
He’s right.
I get to my dad a second after Presley, and she’s already leaned in over the book, oohing and awing. “You’re so cute, Nash,” she says, looking over her shoulder and smiling at me. “But weren’t you scared?” she asks my dad. “Letting him race when he was that young?”
“Scared the hell out of me, but he was a persistent little son of a bitch and back then I always rode shot gun. Eventually I realized it was good for him – if he wasn’t out here with me working on his car so he could race it, he would’ve been getting into trouble with the booze and the women. Figured it wasn’t any more dangerous than his other interests. And, you know, I like him best this time of year. Seems to grow up a little bit and become more tolerable.”
“Jesus, Dad. Way to make me sound like a complete piece of shit. I already have enough trouble convincing her I’m not the devil himself.”
“Jesus, Nash. Way to make me sound like a heartless, judgmental bitch. I’ve been trying all night to convince Nick I’m not an actual witch.”
My dad laughs, a sparkle in his eye, then continues to show Presley every picture in the book. She asks way more questions than necessary and he happily answers them all via his embarrassing stories.
Nate finally rescues me by calling Dad over to the Nova. I close the photo album and Presley looks up at me with a kind of wonder on her face. “I think I have absolutely no idea who you really are,” she tells me.
“Really? Because I’m pretty sure my dad just spent the last half hour walking you through my entire adolescence.”
“I really like him.”
“I think he might like you too.” Understatement of the year.
“I like your friends too. They’re like one big family.”
“Again, pretty sure the feeling’s mutual.”
She cocks her head at me. “Why do you sound surprised by that? Some people actually like me, you know.”
“Trust me, Presley… I get it. I’m more surprised by how well you’ve taken to them... to all of this.”
“It’s been a refreshing, much needed, change of pace. Thank you for letting me tag along tonight.”
“Yeah… anytime.”
She gives me a mistrusting glare.
“What?”
“People keep telling me that you don’t bring friends to your races or here with them. Everyone’s acting like they’ll never see me again. So don’t lip service me because I’m not kidding – this was the best night I’ve had since being in Georgia, and I like your family and your friends, and I like being around people who don’t go to our school and know nothing about my home situation or that I’m related to Jolee and if you’re just appeasing me but really have no plans to ever let me be part of the races, or to bring me back here again to hang out with these people, then don’t say yeah, anytime.”
I can’t help it, I reach out and grab a hold of her hand. What I really want is to wrap her up in my arms, but what I know I should do is keep my hands off her – so the hand holding is a happy medium. “Most people don’t get this. Most people ha
ve never seen me like this. But you seem to get it. You don’t seem to mind that I’m not on when I’m in my element. So, yeah Presley… anytime.”
She gives me a bright smile that makes my chest hurt and squeezes my hand. “Thank you.”
10
“So,” Angel says as soon as Tatum’s attention has turned to Brandon, “what the hell happened to you this weekend?”
“Yeah,” I tell him apprehensively. “Sorry about that. I fell asleep on the way home from the race and then Nash’s dad made me stay there and drink coffee and I started talking to all those car racing people and next thing I know, it’s one am. I texted you after I got home.”
“I know you did. I texted you back and then I didn’t hear from you for the rest of the weekend.”
“I know. I felt like shit on Sunday. I didn’t even check my phone.” And that’s the truth. I wasn’t sick though. I woke up feeling as happy as I ever had; lingering euphoria from the night before.
But as soon as I left my room that all disappeared. My mom was served divorce papers the night before and was suffering a mini-breakdown.
I spent the entire day trying to comfort her, the anxiety growing tighter inside my body with every passing minute.
It’s bad enough having to go through this, but having to do it with my aunt constantly reminding us what an asshole my dad is; what, exactly and very specifically, he did to us; and what he traded us in for – a girl who’s not tied down with any kind of responsibilities and can use all of her energy to pleasure him. A girl who is using him for his money which is rightfully my mom’s and how she’s going to help her take him for everything he’s got, just makes it so much more unbearable.
And Jolee, the girl who treats her father with about as much respect as her mother does, is suddenly daddy’s little girl, hanging all over him, just to show me what a good dad looks like and to shove it in my face that I don’t have one anymore.
At eight o’clock my mom and I finally climbed into her bed and cried ourselves to sleep. So yeah, I didn’t call or text Angel and I’m having serious trouble trying to act like I’m here with him now when really, I don’t feel like this is reality in any way, shape of form.
A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) Page 12