Page 10 of You, Me, and Lucky Number 13

I smile for the first time tonight. “Well, I do try to stay in your good graces.”

“You’ve never been in my good graces.”

Don’t I know it, but that still doesn’t stop me from trying to piss her off. Nothing in this life is as fun as aggravating Lola Quinn. “What can I do for you, love?”

“Don’t call me love,” she snaps.

“Okay, what can I do for you, Lilith—I mean Lola?”

I swear I can hear the fury she tries to contain in that little lithe body of hers. “I need your help,” she grits out between her teeth. “I’ve been in an accident.”

An accident that clearly landed her in the slammer.

“What kind of accident are we talking about? Like you accidentally poisoned someone’s drink, or you accidentally ran a red light?” I can never be sure with Lola. You don’t become her best friend in high school without experiencing a few crazy nights.

“Like I accidentally left Chad alive, and he blacklisted me from racing.”

I find a more private corner where I can hear her better. “I heard something about that. What a shame. I’m sure he’s weeping as we speak.”

“Fuck off, Lawson.” Her words are like fireballs. “You’re lucky I left you alive after what you did.”

And there it is. The same old song and dance we’ve done for the past six years.

“Can’t we get through at least one conversation without bringing up the past?”

It’s been six years since she tried to kiss me. And six long years since I rejected her, then disappeared from her life, well, as much as I could since we’re both on the Formula One racing circuit. It was a bad move on my part—one that destroyed our friendship and exploded it into a million pounds of hatred.

“No, we can’t, Cole,” she argues. “Because you need to know you’re still a piece of shit.”

“Aww, come on now, Quinn. I didn’t know you cared so much.”

She nearly spits the words. “I fucking can’t with you today. This was such a bad idea. I have no idea what I was thinking.”

She must have been thinking she missed me. “All right. All right. I’ll stop. What do you need my help with? Bail money?”

She goes quiet for a moment before she lets out a deep breath. “Actually, I need help with a couple of things.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well…”

I can’t take the suspense any longer. “Just spit it out, Lola. I don’t have all night.”

“I need a job,” she rushes out, “and a place to keep Eleanor. I sort of got into a little fender bender, and her whole side is crushed in. As you know, my brother’s apartment doesn’t have a garage where I can work?—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupt. “How bad is Eleanor?”

There’s one thing that will always tie me to Lola, regardless of our ruined friendship, and that’s Eleanor, the car we restored together in high school. We were supposed to share it, but after I was offered a spot on Hahn’s Formula One US team, I let Lola have her. It was a parting gift—one that she didn’t appreciate like I thought she would.

“She’s not terrible.” Her voice softens while talking about the car. “With the proper equipment, I can get her up and running soon.”

Hence the reason she needs me and my state-of-the-art garage.

“What’s in it for me?”

“You are such a dick,” she snaps, “I don’t even know why I called.”

My smile widens. “Maybe it’s because I’m the only one crazy enough to touch your reputation right now.”

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