Page 7 of All For You
“Yes?” I asked, annoyed.
He leaned one of his muscular arms on the side of my car, all sexy-like. I couldn’t help but think he must’ve done this move hundreds of times with how effortless he appeared. Owen tilted his head down so he could peer through my open window, piercing me with those eyes.
“Having trouble?”
“No,” I growled, again trying to start the car to no avail.
“You sure?”
“Is there something you need?”
“No, just thought I’d offer to help you out or give you a ride home, since you’re on my way.”
“You want to help me?” I asked cynically.
“Yeah. I mean, sure, why not?”
Leaning toward the window, I searched around the parking lot, looking for anything suspicious, but all I saw were a few of my mom’s friends and a couple of women I went to high school with. They were all looking at Owen as if he simultaneously hung the moon and committed a crime.
“Am I being pranked right now? Is someone going to jump out from behind a vehicle and tell me this is all a joke?” I questioned, returning to the task of starting my car, which seemed as unwilling as ever.
“No prank, cricket.”
Immediately, I sneered in his direction, my eyes narrowing as if I were formulating his slow and painful death.
“Come on, Aspen. I’m just trying to help. I also have your candy bar.”
Sighing loudly, I squinted even more at him, like he’d grown two heads. “I realize you may have forgotten everything about our rivalry when you left town, but the last time I was in any moving vehicle with you, my jeans ended up super-glued to the vinyl seats of our school bus.”
That day had been awful. Thankfully, my angel of a mother came to get me off the bus—once the driver returned to school at the end of the route—with an extra pair of pants, because I refused to try to stand up again while there were other passengers.
“We were kids. It was funny.”
“Funny for you, maybe.”
“Pretty sure you got your payback. Even though I think, in the long run, those sheer baseball pants you swapped in my bag before the championship game probably helped me land that underwear campaign I starred in last year.”
Ignoring his chuckles, I attempted to turn on the car for the third time, and the answering click let me know my car wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and Owen stood there with one of those sexy trademark smirks of his. He stayed on the other side of it, probably to protect himself, waiting patiently for me to exit.
Eyes downcast, because I didn’t have any other choice besides call one of my family members, I grabbed the loaf of bread and my bag before stepping out of the car. Without looking up at him, I shoved my keys into my bag, then rolled up the window, giving him my own smirk when he barely moved hisfingers in time to not be pinched. With as much haughtiness as I could muster, I yanked the door from his hold, then shut and locked it.
Before submitting to his offer, I looked across the way, noticing our old science teacher from high school. Ms. Glenvar had the unfortunate luck of having both me and Owen in her eleventh-grade chemistry class during the same period. After one disastrous lab session, where Owen and I had to partner up, and our assignment caught the table on fire, Ms. Glenvar took a leave of absence for the rest of the year.
I still didn’t believe it was our fault. It wasn’t us who placed ourselves in a class together, and everyone in Ashfield knew the chaos we tended to cause when we were in close proximity. So whose bright idea was it to put us together in, of all things,Chemistry? They were just asking for it.
Ms. Glenvar must have felt my stare. Her beady eyes met mine, and her steps faltered as she took in the large body behind my much,muchsmaller one. As if witnessing a crime in action, she took a slow step backward, then another, until she was running to her car parked at the far end of the lot.
“What was that about?” Owen asked as he opened the door of a plain-looking sedan parked directly beside mine. I would have expected to see him driving an exotic car like one of my brothers-in-law owned, since the news made it well known how much Owen’s recently signed contract was for.
With wide eyes, I spun around and looked at him in bewilderment. “Seriously?”
Owen gestured with an outstretched hand for me to enter the vehicle. I was still apprehensive, but I noticed the receipt from the rental company was resting on the center console, so I figured my pants were fairly safe.
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I settled into the seat, grabbing my cell to text my family about my car. Of course, my phone’sbattery was hanging on for dear life, with only three percent left. Before it died completely, I shot off a message letting them know I was on my way home, then powered off the device.
“You’re welcome.”
