Page 6 of Stuck with the Grump

“I don’t do cars and rain well.” I squeezed my eyes shut before opening them and nodding. “Please just keep going.”

Clarke looked at me from the corner of his eyes, his hands tightening on the wheel. “Tyson never mentioned that.”

“That’s because Tyson doesn’t know,” I said, my tone harsher than it should have been. I sighed and looked at Clarke. “Please don’t tell him. My business is my business.”

“I can understand that,” he said, drumming his fingers on the wheel as the rain pounded against the windshield.

I could feel the wind tugging at the car as I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. The music grew louder, drowning out the sound of the rain. After several deep breaths, I opened my eyes and stared at the dent in Nina’s dash.

“About three years ago, I was in a bad accident. My ex-boyfriend at the time had been taking us to a cabin in the mountains, and the road curved a lot. He had rented some sports car—really trying to make an experience out of the whole event. We were about halfway there when the rain started really coming down.”

“You don’t have to tell me this,” Clarke said, reaching out and placing his big hand over my knee. He gave it a gentle squeeze before putting his hand back on the wheel.

“No,” I said, shaking my head and digging my nails into my palms. “I want to tell you about this. It’s just not easy to talk about.”

“It can wait.”

“He decided that he wanted to see how fast the car could really go. I was younger and stupid. I encouraged him. There was something about the feeling of being totally free that came over me as we took the corner too fast. The car slid, and we crashed through a barrier and rolled down a hill. I had broken bones for weeks, but my ex walked away almost unharmed. Turns out he had been drinking before we left, and the liquor kept him loose.”

“You’re telling me that Tyson doesn’t know this?” Clarke peeked at me. “Leigh, that isn’t the kind of thing you hide from family.”

“He knows I was in the accident. He doesn’t know that I’m still scared when I have to drive in the rain.”

Clarke didn’t say anything as he turned the car off the road and onto the driveway. I stared out the window, feeling the familiar tears burning in my eyes when I thought about that night.

“Have you talked to anyone about it?” Clarke asked as he parked the car. “I have a friend that specializes in PTSD therapy. I could give you her number if you’d like it.”

“I’ve seen a therapist a few times.” I shrugged and got out of the car. Clarke met me at the trunk and gathered some of the bags of groceries. I picked up what was left and followed him toward the house.

“Does the therapy help?”

I smiled wryly as he held the door open for me. “It would if I went regularly.”

Clarke chuckled as he followed me inside. He dropped the groceries on the kitchen island and leaned against the counter. “Why don’t you go?”

“Busy. Weak. Stubborn. Take your pick of reasons really.”

He looked at me, damp strands of his dark hair falling across his forehead. For a moment, I considered closing the distance between us. My heart was hammering in my chest as I thought about the feeling of his lips on my neck while we were in the store. Disappointment had flooded through me when he stepped away. I was ready to have some fun with no feelings attached.

You don’t do no feelings,the little voice in the back of my mind whispered.

Though I hated to admit it, I wasn’t the kind of person who could handle the no feelings aspect of sleeping together. At least, not with someone I might run into again.

Instead of giving in to my wants, I unpacked the groceries and started putting them away. I could still feel his eyes burning a hole into my back, even when he stopped staring and started helping.

As we worked together, I thought of what my mom would say if she saw us now.

Stay away from boys who break hearts.

4

CLARKE

Leighwassurprising,tosay the least. She seemed too happy to be plagued by the memories of a horrible car accident. I was sure her nails had dug little crescent moons into her hands, judging by how white her knuckles were. When we reached the lake house, she had almost tripped getting herself out of the car as fast as possible.

Still, I had a feeling that what she had told me in the car was only scratching the surface of what she was going through.

I looked at the can of ravioli in my hand before looking at her. “Look, once this rain stops, I’ll pack my bags and head home. I have a few other places I can go.”

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