Page 41 of Playing for Keeps
I laugh. “You’ll be fine.”
I shut her door and jog around the hood, slipping into the passenger seat. “Ready?”
“I think so,” she says, beaming as she hands me her purse, then grips the wheel tightly.
“Foot on the brake, then press the start button,” I say with a grin.
She nods, jumping slightly when the engine roars to life. Her wide eyes meet mine, and I smile, reaching over to put it into reverse.
“Okay, you’re good to go.”
She eases down on the gas, and the car rolls smoothly off the driveway. The street is quiet, but I get why she’s being so careful. Once we’re on the road, I lean over again and flick it into drive.
“Go wild,” I tease.
She laughs, then slowly accelerates. After a few blocks of cautious crawling, I glance at her with a smirk. “How far away do your parents live? At this rate, we’ll get there by tomorrow.”
“Do you want me to crash?” she shoots back, leaning forward in full concentration.
“You’re not going to crash, Ivy. Someone’s more likely to rear-end us because we’re going so slow.”
She sticks out her tongue without looking away from the road, making me chuckle.
“Fine,” she huffs, pressing a little harder on the gas. The engine growls, and her eyes widen again.
“You’re doing great,” I assure her.
“This is so nerve-racking. I’d be a wreck if this were actually mine.”
“You’d be fine. You’re only this cautious because it’s not yours.”
“This is it,” she says a moment later, turning into the driveway of a two-story house with a wide wrap-around porch. I’ve known Ivy forever, but I’ve never actually met her parents.
She shuts off the engine and turns to face me, her entire face lit up.
“That was incredible,” she says. “I’m gonna call my dad. He has to see this. I hope he’s home.”
I pass her the purse, and she quickly digs out her phone, finding the number in her contacts. I can hear her dad’s voice come through the line.
“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”
“Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m good. Are you home?”
“I am. Why?”
“Come outside. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
He chuckles. “All right, I’m coming.”
She hangs up and drops the phone in her lap, her hands back on the wheel like she’s not quite ready to let go.
“He’s coming,” she says, her eyes fixed on the front door like an excited kid on Christmas morning.
When it swings open, she waves him over and hops out of the car.
“What are you doing in that?” he asks, his eyebrows raised as he looks from her to me.
I step out too and follow them as she grabs his hand.
