Page 31 of How to Break My Heart
“Who said you can touch my controls?” Aston questions sternly.
“I’m freezing,” I bite back. “Do you want me to die of hypothermia inside your car?”
Beside me, he rolls his eyes. “Ironic, since a moment ago, you were willing to go to the hospital rather than get into my quarter-life-crisis mobile.”
“More like penis-extension mobile,” I mutter under my breath. “Everyone knows men who drive Porsches have something to prove.”
Aston relaxes in his seat, then reaches out to turn up the heat. The car takes only seconds to warm, releasing the tension inside my body.
“If you’re still cold, I have a coat in the back you can put on,” he offers, but his tone sounds annoyed. “Can’t have you dying in my penis-extension mobile.”
He takes a sharp turn, causing me to jerk to my right.
“I would get it if you’d stop driving like a maniac,” I complain.
I reach over and pull the navy wool coat toward me, feeling the weight of the expensive fabric as I drape it around my shoulders, the soft material cocooning me against the lingering chill. Closing my eyes momentarily, I relish the warmth and allow my body to relax. I’m beyond exhausted, with my social battery completely drained. Hopefully, Aston will leave me in silence for the rest of the drive so I can regroup.
The car’s speed slows as Aston takes the next turn smoothly. He briefly glances at me but then focuses back on the road. “Better?”
I don’t even acknowledge him, suddenly aware I’m too close to my enemy. With a need to distract myself, I let my eyes wander to his hand resting on the stick shift. Every time he shifts gears,the veins protrude, and I squeeze my legs tight because of the uncontrollable sensation taking over. Why do his hands have to look so…
Don’t say it, Eva.
He changes gears again, forcing me to turn away as the simple movement makes my urges all the more unbearable. It’s been a while since a guy touched me, but it hasnotbeenthatlong.
“I assume your guy friend will assist you with the tire,” Aston alludes in a sharp tone.
I shrug, staring out the window. “Right, my guy friend. Maybe, I could ask.”
Aston slams his foot on the gas, obviously bothered by my answer. I turn my head to look at him, and under my intense stare, he shifts his body uncomfortably.
“You seem rather annoyed by myguy friend,” I begin, keeping my smirk at bay. “One would think you have a problem with me, too.”
“I’m not annoyed,” he insists. “I just don’t want to be planning this wedding on my own while you’re busy with some boyfriend doing God knows what.”
I raise a brow with a glassy stare. “I’m not a flake. Maddy is my best friend. Besides, weren’t you supposed to take Ramona home?”
Aston’s eyes widen.“Fuck.”
“Don’t tell me you left her behind without a word.” I laugh, the image of a stranded Ramona too amusing to resist. “The poor girl assumed she was getting laid tonight.”
“I don’t sleep with every woman I speak to, believe it or not,” he deadpans, his expression flat as if he’s daring me to challenge him.
Big mistake. “Yeah, right. Why else would you take a drunk chick home?”
Aston turns to look at me with a slackened mouth. “Myles asked me to.”
I study him closely, noting the way he leans back in his seat, effortlessly relaxed, as if leaving Ramona behind was the most natural thing in the world. “I call bullshit. He did not.”
“Would you like to call him to ask?” He moves his hand to his phone, ready to dial. “If you think I’m lying, I’m more than happy to prove you wrong.”
“Fine, whatever.” My arms fold at the same time as he turns left onto Ginger Grove. I glance around before asking, “How do you know where I live?”
“Madelina,” he answers nonchalantly.
“Oh,” I murmur as he pulls up to the back of the building. Out front is the café, but back here lies the entrance to my apartment. I unbuckle my seat belt, eyes fixed on the rain pounding against the windshield. My choices are to stay in this confined space, awkwardly silent, or make a dash for it and get drenched before I even reach the door.
A little rain never hurt anyone… right?
