Page 38 of Ruthless Rose

Chapter 23

When I pull into the driveway, my parents are outside, about to get into their car.

I step out, giving them a small smile that I hope meets my eyes. “Hey. You guys going somewhere?”

“Yeah. To a therapy session and then, hopefully, out to dinner. Do you think you can fend for yourself?” Mom doesn’t seem fazed by my car, or maybe she’s just too caught up in whatever they are seeking therapy for to notice.

Dad jingles his keys in his hand as he checks out my windshield. “What’s this? Part of the whole spirit squad thing?”

“Uh, yeah. Something like that.” I duck back into the car to grab my book bag. “I’m going to wash it off. It was hard to drive, and I was scared I’d get pulled over.”

“Yeah. I’d get on that if I were you. And maybe tell the kids this was a bad idea. I don’t want you doing this again.”

“Got it.” As if I would have done this to my car for shits and giggles.

They get into their car and wave before backing down the driveway. I give them a half-hearted wave, watching as their car pulls away, then with a sigh, turn back to the mess.

I’m around the side of the house, trying in vain to connect the hose to the spigot, when the low rumble of an engine catches my attention. I glance around the corner to find Micah has parked his SUV at the curb and is walking up the drive, hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers.

“I’m over here.”

He cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows lifting as he finds me hunched over the demon hose. “Hey. I see someone left you a love note.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of my poor Civic.

I’m pretty irked at the whole situation. “Very funny,” I murmur, blowing out a breath as he approaches. His jaw is tense as he watches me fumble some more. Anxiously, I blurt, “I’m really sorry. I was hoping I’d be done cleaning this up before you got here. I can finish later.” I wipe my hands on my skirt and am about to set down the hose when Micah squats next to me.

He grimaces as he glances back at the car’s windshield. “Double D again, huh?”

I nod grimly. “Yeah. She can’t seem to let that one go.” I guess he knows who is bitchy enough to make me miserable without having to ask.

“She and I have had a casual agreement that suited both of us. She can tell I’m done with it.” He pauses looking into my eyes. “That’s why she’s doing this. And you made her pretty mad after lunch yesterday when you didn’t just roll over and take the shit she was dishing out. She doesn’t usually give a flying fuck who I’m with, so I don’t really understand why her panties are so twisted lately.”

“I might have implied that you had touched me …”

His mouth drops open and a surprised chuckle bursts out. “You didn’t.”

“No comment. And I might have also implied that she’s just a fuck buddy.” I shrug, gritting my teeth together. “She makes me so mad. She told me the wrong time for the homecoming committee meeting, so I missed it and looked like a huge slacker. And I really need that—” I stop, my words catching in my throat. My eyes blink shut, and I breathe slowly. “Let’s just say she picked a tender spot to poke at, and I retaliated with what I knew would probably hurt her.”

“At least what you were saying was the truth. She lied to you. About more than one thing, apparently.” He waits a beat before finishing. “I’m not going to homecoming with her.” He clears his throat and holds his hand out for the hose without waiting for any kind of a response. “You just need this connected?”

I don’t know what to make of this turn of events. Giving myself a little shake, I gesture at the valve. “Yeah. I don’t know why I can’t get it attached to the spigot.”

He nods, takes it in hand, and has it secured in no time flat. He twists the valve open before we both stand, him with the sprayer in hand.

I reach for it, but he shifts out of my reach. I huff, “Micah, I need to rinse it off really quickly, and then we can get to your homework.”

He grunts a little and moves toward my car, yanking the length of the hose behind him. “I’ll do it. We may need to soap it up to get rid of everything. Is it whipped cream on there?” At my shrug, he asks, “You have a bucket?”

“Seriously. You don’t have to help me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s partially my fault. Like I told you, things I’ve said to Alora have set her off.”

“I don’t understand.” I press my lips together. Maybe I’m crazy, but I want him to tell me he’s into me. Because I feel like he is, even if he has a hard time admitting it.

He gives me a slight smirk. “I think you understand just fine.”

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