Page 33 of Inflame

“But the implication was there.”

I follow him to the car that can only be described as highly luxurious. The man spared no expense. It’s in my favorite color too—red like Dorothy’s ruby slippers. I look inside and see that it’s automatic and laugh when Nic tosses me the set of keys.

“I may regret this,” he says under his breath.

“Wait,” I say, looking for the backseat. “How are we all going to fit?” I quickly remember he mentioned multiple cars.

“I got two. The other one is Graham’s and is silver,” Nic explains, tossing the other set of keys to his brother. “I wanted to have the flexibility of being able to take Graham out whenever you girls have your night out.”

“What night out?” Graham asks with curiosity, stiffening up beside Angie who just continues peppering kisses all over his face in an obvious attempt to distract him.

“It’s tradition that the girls get to have their fun,” I say with a sigh. How does he not know this?

“We’ll have our fun too,” Nic suggests. He winks at me, knowing that he promised he would handle Graham if I beat him in poker. And I did. I beat everyone.

Angie looks up at a stressed Graham. “My very appropriate and super reserved bestie planned it. I have nothing to do with it.”

“Way to throw me solely under the bus,” I quip, but am ignored by both of them.

Graham chuckles. “There’s nothing reserved about your bestie and you know it.”

“Hey!” I say, waving my arms. “I’m right here!”

They all laugh. I slide into the driver’s side and try to adjust my seat and steering wheel to fit my petite needs. When Nic sees me struggling, he comes to my rescue and pushes the buttons and slides my seat into place.

“How’s that?” he asks, staring at my bare legs to make sure I can touch the pedals.

“We will soon find out.”

My shorts have ridden up my thighs so much that the pockets have popped out of the bottom. I pull the fabric down, but only manage to gain an inch before it slides right back up my legs.

Nic gets into the passenger seat, straps in, and then closes his eyes.

“Are you that tired? You did fall asleep after the walk, right?” I ask, waiting for his eyes to open.

“No, I’m good.” Slowly, his eyes open as he tilts his head in my direction. “I’m just praying for my safety.”

“Oh hush”—I smack his arm—“I’m a very good driver.”

“We will soon find out,” he echoes my own words, making me laugh maniacally.

I start the car, kick on the A/C, and back out of the parking spot with ease.

“This baby knows how to purr,” I hum, listening to the barely audible sound of the engine. “It’s so quiet.” I turn on the radio and loud pop music blasts through the sound system. Then it stops suddenly. I glare at Nic. “Why did you shut that off?”

“Because you need to concentrate on the road.”

“But I’m not even on the road yet.” We are still in the parking garage.

“Same difference,” he says casually. “Plus, you almost took out three parked cars in a row.”

“They were ugly.”

Nic studies me and then laughs, the full belly kind of laugh.

“And I didn’t almost hit them,” I defend. “If I wanted to hit them, they would be hit.”

“Well, then I should be thankful you weren’t in the mood for a car accident today,” he deadpans.

---