Page 94 of We Met Like This
“Hi,” he answered after a few rings, a smile in his voice. “How are you?”
“Meh. Do you know anything about cars?” I hadn’t seen Oliver since Tuesday. We’d exchanged texts every day and I felt like we’d fallen right back into the friendship we’d had for the past several weeks, like I hadn’t confessed my like for him three days ago. I tried not to think about how sad that made me feel.
“Because I’m a man?”
I snorted out some air. “You are the second person to say that to me today.”
“I was your second call?”
“My dad was my first. Sloane would’ve been my second but she’s out of town at a film festival.” Her car parked at the airport forty-five minutes away, useless to me. “You’re my third choice.”
“Ouch,” he responded.
“Listen closely.” I turned the ignition.
“Battery?” he said. It was obviously a guess. “Starter? I don’t know, Margot. I’m pretty useless in the car knowledge department.”
“You don’t have an extra car that I can borrow for the weekend lying around, do you?”
“Only one that comes with me attached to it.”
I paused, staring at the logo in the middle of the steering wheel, assessing his sentence. “Are you offering to take me?”
“Where exactly?”
“I’m doing a research trip to Paso Robles for an author.”
“Oh… I…”
His hesitation spoke volumes. We were obviously in two completely different places. I wasn’t going to beg someone to like me back. My eyes stung and I blinked several times, trying not to be hurt over this. “Never mind. You don’t have to take me, Oliver.”
“Can I get back to you? If I can move one thing on my schedule, I will.”
My heart thudded twice and I wanted to sayYes, please, but I heard myself say, “No, I can’t let you do that,” instead.
“How else am I going to get my coffee fix?”
“This favor is worth more than a coffee,” I said.
“Two coffees?” he asked.
“This is worth a weekend of favors. I will provide as many as you like,” I said, a smirk coming onto my face.
“You’re terrible,” he said.
“I don’t know where your mind went. I meant that I’d buy you food all weekend.”
He laughed. “I’ll call you back.”
“Okay… thank you,” I said, realizing he really was my only hope to make this happen. And his willingness to do it made me think that maybe we were closer to the same place than I thought. Maybe time really was what he needed.
I threw my small suitcase in his open trunk, shut it, then joined him in the car with my backpack. His car was pretty—a Lexus, with leather seats and fancy gadgets and screens.
“This is a new car,” I said, running my hand over the tan dash. “Not the one I have a history with.”
“You had a history with my car?” he teased.
“Yes, we were good together. So. Good. He held me up when I needed support. Cradled my ass perfectly.”
