Page 88 of Beneath the Hood

Scoffing, I lift up on my shoulder, peering down at him. “You are so cocky.”

He laughs, dragging me down until I’m laying half across his chest. “But youloveme.”

I grin. “I can’t help it. Turns out, you’re extremely lovable.”

He hums, the vibration from his chest skittering across my skin. “You think so?”

There’s a serious tone to his voice that wasn’t there a moment ago, and I realize we’ve run over a pothole in an otherwise smooth road. A vulnerability you don’t even realize exists until you’re falling into it.

It makes my stomach sour, pissed the hell off that anyone has ever made him think he wasn’t worth it.

I crane my neck to meet his eyes. “I know so.”

“Does this mean you’re mine?” he asks.

My hand reaches up, scratching at his stubble. “Only if you’re mine, too.”

His face warms and he dips down, pressing our lips together, showing me all the ways he loves me.

40

Blakely

“So, are you prego?” Kayla asks, sipping from her orange juice.

My mouth waters at the sugary drink, and like usual, jealousy sears my insides.

Must be nice.

“Are you seriouslyasking me that?” I level her with a glare, leaning back against the metal chair.

We’re at brunch. I took the day off from Donahue Motors, specifically for this outing. I miss having girl time with Kayla, and ever since I’ve taken on this role for my dad, our daytime lunches have become nonexistent. Add to that fact, Sierra has been begging me to get some “Kodak moments” of the new Adidas line. So here we are, acting casual, like we don’t see the horde of photographers standing across the street, huddled around the sidewalk, waiting for their moment.

As usual, we’re the ones who called them.

Kayla shrugs. “I don’t know, you practically disappear from my life overnight and you...” Her eyes trail up and down my body. “You seem different.”

My insides smart at her words.

“Well, no. I’m notpregnant, for Christ’s sake,” I snap.

She raises her hands in surrender. “I didn’t think so. I mean, I told him... who would you even have beenwith? That would mean you lost your V-card, and I know for damn sure you wouldn’t do that and not tell your best friend.”

She eyes me over the rim of her Chanel sunglasses.

I fidget, my fists curling around my thighs, tempering the urge to clench them and count to three on repeat in my head. “That’s what you told who?” My head cocks.

“Hmm?” she asks.

“You said ‘that’s what I told him.’ Who ishim?” My chest pulls tight. Is she gossiping about me in her free time? Does everyone talk about me behind my back, even the people who I’m close with?

No.

“Oh.” She laughs. “Uh, Jake. It popped up on TMZ and he asked if it was true.”

I’m about to ask when I get to meet him when she takes a piece of bread from where it’s steaming in the middle of the table and plops it on her plate.

My stomach curdles as she smothers it in butter, popping a gigantic piece in her mouth. “Mmmm,” she moans. “The bread here is the best, dude. Are you gonna have any?”

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