Page 55 of City of Salvation

Because there I was, swooning over him placing my foot on a pedal.

When he pulled his hand away his fingers brushed the back of my calves, and I wanted to skip the driving lesson so we could do something else in the car.

Dex went over how I wasn’t to drive with both feet or yank on the e-brake to drift. I told him he was speaking a foreign language.

Finally, he let me drive. Kind of. We drove around the giant asphalt area, and he made me perform various maneuvers. Unsurprisingly, at least to me, he was a great teacher.

I constantly worked to hide myself from people so I could spot all the little things people tried to downplay from a mile away. I’d known since the first time I met him that Dex used his humor and goofiness to disarm people, letting them think he was aloof.

But at his core, he was so much more.

Sherlock Holmes had already deduced that I never looked in the rear view mirror, and shouldn’t attempt to parallel park unless I wanted to pay to replace someone’s bumper.

“Okay, ease out here now.” His eyes bounced from left to right, searching the empty road. “Make sure you look?—”

“Both ways.” I finished for him, pulling out, a thrill shooting through me. I was actually driving on a road. My cheeks began to ache with how hard I was smiling.

“I’m doing it. I’m driving, Dex,” I practically shrieked.

“Yeah, you are, babe,” he said. My breath caught on the term. Something about it just did it for me, like when he called me spitfire.

He looked at me with such pride that my heart actually palpitated. He was legitimately excited for me, and not disappointed that I hadn’t figured out how to do this years ago. I wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to be doing right now. He had to have shit to do other than teaching me how to drive.

Why did he have to be so fucking kind to me? To actually seeme.

His voice broke through my thoughts, humor in his tone. “Nikki, why don’t we focus on the road instead of you looking at me like I shit sparkles,” he suggested, smiling.

I whipped my head back, accidentally sending us into the other lane a smidge. A car horn blared at us.

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” I yelled as if the other driver would hearus, but whoever it was proceeded to lay on the horn and tail my ass. “Fuck, it was an accident.”

“Slow down,” Dex said, an edge to his voice. My gut clenched at the idea of letting him down, but his attention wasn’t on me. It was on the side mirror as he rolled the window down. I did as he asked, and the vehicle I’d pissed off came up beside us, rolling theirs down as well.

“Watch where you’re going, bitch,” the guy yelled, his face turned up in a snarl.

I was about to apologize when Dex pulled out a gun and pointed it at the other driver. “Say it again, asshole. Call my girlfriend a bitch.” All the color in the man’s face drained, causing Dex to sneer. “That’s what I thought,bitch. Watch your fucking road rage, got it? Because you never know when you’re going to be a dick to a fucker who’s shot people for less. Now, apologize for being a dickwad,” he demanded, looking dangerously close to getting out of the car and beating the dude’s ass.

It took every ounce of my restraint not to laugh as the guy apologized, his voice shaking so badly that it was gibberish. I also ignored the nagging voice pointing out that Dex had called me his girlfriend in front of someone we didn’t need to put on the show for. The level of overthinking I was doing in trying to decipher his reasoning was absurd. Meanwhile, Dex probably didn’t even realize he’d said it.

Men.

“Good. Now, get the fuck out of here.” The words were barely out of Dex’s mouth, and the small electric car was gone. “Damn, I was going to tell you to give him a little ram to the ass, too. Fuckin’ electric cars are fast on the takeoff,” he said, looking over at me. “You okay, Niks?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I answered, keeping my focus solelyon the road. His attention and sincere concern were too much—I couldn’t look at him.

Why couldn’t he have been like a fuckboy. I mean, he kind of was a fuckboy, but a sweet one who made me breakfast and watched me dance in the living room.

One who brought me three different types of Gatorade since he didn’t know which was my favorite color.

“Turn left up here—don’t forget your turn signal. I think we need milkshakes,” he said.

One who fucking teaches you how to drive and then buys you a milkshake after pulling a gun on someone who called you a bitch.

Romance wasn’t dead…but I wasn’t supposed to be looking for romance.

CHAPTER 24

DEX

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