Page 61 of Drive
“Look at me.”
For the first time in my life, I was truly terrified.
I can go back to Dallas and stay with Mom and Dad.
I would call them. They would send me bus fare. But that in itself would be hell on earth. They were more than mad at me at that point. I had no choice. And then I remembered I had a job.
“Never mind, your place.”
I was pulled out of my haze by warm hands as they slid my body over to the driver’s side of the truck.
“You irritate the shit out of me, you know that? So full of questions, and no answers. What the hell is wrong with you?”
I looked up to Reid with a sigh. “I love your hands.”
“That’s wonderful, Stella. I’m fond of your beautiful tits. Can we talk here?”
“My tits, that’s what comes to mind first?”
“Well, it’s definitely not your mouth,” he said dryly.
“Can we just go?”
“Yep,” he said, yet he didn’t move as he gripped my hair and took my lips, gently at first and then fully. His kiss was wet, and as his tongue slid against mine, I relaxed and clutched him to me. He pulled away. “What?” He searched my eyes as I tried my best not to show him all I was feeling.
“I can’t move in for a week.”
“That’s cool,” he said as he waited. “And?”
“And? There is noand.”
Realization crossed his features as he cupped my chin. “You were worried I wanted you out?”
“Reid, you didn’taskfor this, and I’mmooching,and youhatemy mouth—”
Reid released me and started the truck as I went on. “Paigehatesus, and here we are stuck together because we hadsex, and you feel obligated—”
Reid flew out of the parking lot as I rambled. “This whole situation is screwed. It’s like I can’t get a break, and that manager is a lying bastard. He took every single dime I had. I swear he saw my bank account balance and made up fees as he typed up the lease. It was all I had. I can’t even buy you a steak dinner at the shitty-ass steakhouse! Like, I can’t even buy you a marbled, nasty, greasy, fat-filled steak. Fuck this, just fuck this!”
Before I could take another breath, we were parked. I got quiet and looked up to see the Emo’s sign.
“Why are we here?”
Reid gave me a pointed look.
“Yes, I’m done talking.”
I was still close to him on the bench seat in his truck; we sat like old couples do on the same side in a booth. A part of me was hoping he would grab a license plate from his glove compartment that read Grenade instead of Sissy like in that movieUrban Cowboy—I loved that movie—and kiss me all sweaty-lipped like John Travolta did Deborah Winger. And all would just bedecidedbetween us, his decision. He would be my Bud/Band Nerd, and I would be his Sissy/Grenade, and I wouldn’t have to question myself daily whether or not it was okay to proceed with falling for him, like I so clearly was.
He palmed my scalp. “Whoa, it’s really getting heavy in there.”
I swallowed. “You have no idea.”
Soft eyes stared back at me. “Stella, if I were a better man, I’d tell you to go home to your parents.”
“I can.”
“No, you can’t. You’ll lose your job and your footing here.”
