Page 46 of Just This Once

On the other side, MJ held up her hands. “Sorry!” She laughed despite the sprinkling of rain falling onto her head. “Sorry. Everything okay?”

I tried to lower the window, but because my car was being a dick, nothing happened. Instead, I rolled my eyes and hauled my sorry ass out of the vehicle.

“I don’t know what’s going on. It won’t start.”

MJ’s typically sunny features turned down into a frown. “Shoot. Well, I don’t know anything about cars. Like, at all.”

I laughed. “Me neither.” I dug through my purse to find my phone. “It’s fine. I can call someone to give me a ride.”

Her hand clamped onto my forearm. “Don’t be silly. Whip!”

My head shot up as MJ’s arm waved wildly across the parking lot.

Hell. No.

“Hey!” she called out again. “We need some help over here.”

My cheeks flushed, and I was thankful for the dim lighting in the parking lot. I stayed behind the open door of my car, the metal and glass acting as a form of protection against the way he swaggered across the pavement.

“Something’s up with Emily’s car. Can you help out?”

His brow furrowed, and I frowned at myself for the visceral reaction his grumpiness immediately caused.

“What’s wrong with it?” he asked as soon as he was within earshot.

“I’m not sure,” I offered reluctantly. “Won’t start.” Whip stared at me for a beat, so I scrambled. “It’s fine. I’ll call my dad and get a ride.”

“Don’t be silly.” MJ laughed. “Whip, you can get her home, right?”

I stared a hole into the side of my new friend’s face. Why couldn’tsheoffer to drive me home? I swallowed hard as I waited for his answer.

He scrubbed a hand on the back of his neck, causing his biceps to bunch. “Uh, sure.”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, really.”

He tipped his head toward the east end of the parking lot. “I’m parked over there,” Whip ground out.

Unaware of the simmering tension between us, MJ grinned. “Thanks. I’ll call you in a few days, Em. Night, guys!” When she turned, I swore I saw her wink, but dismissed it as the low lighting playing with my senses.

I closed the driver’s-side door and relocked the car. Whip started across the parking lot, now dotted with moisture from fat raindrops, toward his pickup truck. When he moved toward the passenger side rather than his own driver’s side, I paused.

He yanked the door open. When I didn’t move, he let out an exasperated breath. “Get in the truck, Prim.” His words were rough, like sandpaper gliding over my skin.

My bones melted, nearly sliding to the pavement in a puddle of hormones andknowing. By sheer force of will, I pulled myself into the cab of his truck. The door rattled as it closed, and I watched him as he rounded the hood in the rain and climbed behind the wheel.

Without a word, Whip started his truck, and the engine growled to life. After flipping the wipers on, he offered a three-finger wave over the steering wheel as he waited for a twosome to cross the lot. In silence we bumped along the road toward the main thoroughfare through town.

When the truck took an unexpected turn, I shifted in my seat. “Where are you going?”

“My place. Your car battery is probably dead, and I have a portable jumper in the shop.”

Like a petulant child, I folded my arms in defiance, mostly to cover the fact that my nipples had formed into hard pebblesthanks to the chill of the rain. “You could have left me in the parking lot to wait for you to come back.”

Whip scoffed but didn’t take his eyes off the shadowy, winding road. “I’m not leaving you in the dark parking lot of abar, Prim.”

The protective edge in his voice sent a shiver down my back, and I pulled my cardigan tighter around my middle.

My movement caught his attention, and he switched on the heat, fiddling with the vent and pointing it in my direction. “Cold?”

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