Page 40 of Give Me Love

“I’m soaked! I’m not ruining your seats.”

“Fuck the seats. Get in, Kathrine.”

I exhale and open the door, quickly climbing inside and tossing the folder onto the floor.

“What the hell are you doing walking in the rain?” he asks as I manually let the window back up.

“Not planned,” I reply. “I had something to do, and it took longer than expected with no good end result.”

“Where’s your car?”

“Claire needed it for an interview.”

“You obviously needed it, too,” he says, annoyed.

“Hey, don’t get all attitude-y with me. I didn’t think I would need to walk this far away from work.”

“Why did you?”

I pull the wet hair tie from my wrist and lift my soaking wet hair from my neck. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” I mumble.

He looks over at me. “Can I help?”

I exhale, gazing ahead like my problem is laid out in front of me. “No. No, you can’t.”

“Come on,” he says, reaching over and grabbing my knee. My eyes shoot down and chills crawl. His rough skin grazes my soft and he gives it a lighthearted squeeze, but he has no idea what that little touch is doing to my insides.

I swallow as the car grows small. He pulls back and scratches the side of his five o’clock shadow. Clearing his throat, he says, “Friends are supposed to help each other, right?” He places his hand lazily on the bottom of the wheel.

“What are you out doing?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I was at an auction.”

“Are you buying or selling?”

“Selling.”

I look over at him, his tats, dark jeans, and short-sleeved black shirt.

“You just don’t look like you grew up on a ranch.”

He laughs lightly. “And what is a person supposed to look like when they grow up on a ranch?”

I shrug. “I dunno. Cowboy hat? Wrangler jeans.”

“This isn’t the Wild West, Kat.”

“Do you wear that stuff when you’re out there?”

“No, I mean, I wear boots and jeans, but no cowboy hat. I prefer these,” he says, signaling to his snapback that has an X on the front and says something about Brand Stunts.

I smile. “Yeah, I prefer that, too. On you, I mean.”

He gives me a smirk as we pull up to the curb of Mugs & Books.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime,” he replies. “By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice how you changed the subject.”

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