Page 1 of Property Of Chrissy

CHAPTER 1

Chrissy

5 years ago…

POP!

What was that?My body jerks in the seat and my hands jerk the steering wheel right along with it. The car swerves into the left lane but I manage to gain control and get back into the right. Shit! Something’s definitely wrong. It’s wobbling in all directions.

“No! No! No! No! No! This can’t be happening right now.” I turn my signal on and pull to a stop on the side of the road. As soon as I step outside, the cause of the loud noise is staring me in the face. This seriously can’t be happening right now. Dad’s going to kill me if I’m late, and I don’t have a freaking clue how to change a tire.

Calling roadside service is out of the question because they always take over an hour to come which is definitely not going to work. I’d call the police for assistance, but Dad will just get wind of what’s happened and then he’ll punish me for my poor use of the taxpayers’ dollars because “officers are supposed to beusing their time catching criminals, Chrissy, not changing tires.” So that’s not an option either. Unfortunately, I think my only choice is to change the thing myself or else I’ll be suffering the consequences. Which means I’m going to have to figure this out. And fast.

I pull up the first how-to video on my phone. Five minutes later, I’m dragging the spare tire from the trunk. According to the clock, I now have only thirty minutes to turn into She-Woman and change my tire— which is seriously like making a miracle happen.

Normal people would be able to call their fathers for help when something goes wrong, but if I call Dad, he’ll blow a fuse and make my life even more miserable. He’ll ground me for as long as he sees that his punishment fits the crime and then slowly he’ll start bribing me with my freedom again. So, no, I can’t call my father for help. Or for anything. Ever.

“Come on, you little suckers.” The metal things aren’t even budging an inch. How am I supposed to get the new tire on when I can’t even get the old one off? I place the bar on the metal cap again, but it doesn’t even fit properly. I try to turn it but end up stumbling backwards and landing on my butt. The tears start filling my eyes and the fear begins to creep its way in.

I so do not want to deal with dad’s wrath.

Suddenly, the low rumble of an engine blares through my thoughts and comes to a stop right behind my car. I look up and see a man parking his motorcycle. He climbs off and starts walking toward me. Maybe this is where that whole stranger-danger thing should kick in, but all that’s kicking in is the thought that I’ve never seen a man so tall or so good-looking in all my life. And that’s exactly what he is: all man.

I’m used to the boys my age. Even at eighteen, some of the guys still haven’t gone through their final growth spurts yet. But the guy who’s now standing above me, blocking the sun with hishuge frame, has definitely been through all of his. He has to be well over six feet tall. And that tall body is all muscle. His mouth tips up in a crooked grin and my eyes follow the movement right up to his dark, dreamy eyes which are staring right down at me.

“Looks like you need some help, babe.”

Oh, that voice. And those words. Right now, I could use a whole lot of help. I’ve never had such a physical reaction to a guy before and I can’t even think beyond how good looking he is. Finally, I find my voice and speak, but the words come out breathless.

“Yeah…um…I can’t get them off. I tried. But they’re stuck. And I have to be somewhere in like twenty minutes.” I’m rambling, and staring, and no doubt coming across as the eighteen-year-old dork I am. I finally move to stand, and ever a gentleman, he offers me his hand and helps me up. Right as I get to my feet, I’m lifted in his arms and being carried to the other side of my vehicle where he places me back down.

“That’s better. Couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hit by a car. Now, you stay right here, angel, and I’ll get that tire changed for you.” And not only is he incredibly strong, but he’s sweet and thoughtful, too. And now I’m swooning even more.

He hurries to the other side of my vehicle and I quickly rush to check my mirror and make sure I don’t look like a total hot mess. My makeup is long gone from cheering in the game, and my hair is still tied in place with the ribbon. Shoot…could I look any younger? This guy has to be in his early twenties and I still look like a middle schooler.

“All set, angel,” that deep voice rumbles again as he comes back around to my side of the vehicle. He’s wiping his dirty hands off on his shirt. His abs coming into view as he lifts the material to clean himself with. I think I’m going to need to change my panties as soon as I get home. Wow, his stomach ishard and rippled, and there’s a sexy line of hair running right down to his…

“Did you hear anything I said, babe? Looks like you were a little distracted.” Shit! He caught me staring and drooling, and now I feel like even more of an idiot. He’s probably used to sexy women playing hard to get, and here I am acting like a little girl crazed with a crush.

“I said you can drive on it today, but you’re going to have to take it in tomorrow to get your other tire replaced. You don’t want to be out on the road without a spare. Now, will you do that for me, angel?”

For him? I’ll do anything for him. Why he needs me to deal with my car for him I don’t know, but I appreciate his concern for my safety.

“I will.” I force the breathless words out. “Thank you so much…um…sorry, what is your name?”

“Sean.” And, of course, his name is just as sexy as the rest of him.

“Thank you, Sean, for stopping and for helping. I really appreciate it. Can I pay you for your time?” I’m not sure what the proper etiquette is in this situation, but I feel like I should offer him something.

He shakes his head. “Nah, babe. I don’t want your money, but you can return the favor.”

Return the favor? I look over at his bike and back. I don’t know how to change a tire on my own car, let alone his motorcycle. My eyes must relay my confusion because he chuckles and shakes his head.

“I mean with your time. You can give me some of your time. By the way, what’s your name, angel?”

Time.He wants to spend time with me? Now, I truly am struggling to get the words out. “Oh! Um…it’s Christina, but I usually go by Chrissy.”

I hate the name Christina. My dad is the only one who calls me by it, and when Dad calls me by that name, it always means I’ve done something to make him mad. Speaking of my father, I’m running late and have no time to give Sean right now, or else I’ll be dealing with dad’s wrath. Sean would be worth it, but then I’d never get to see him again because I’d be grounded long enough for him to forget all about me.

---