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“A cat.” She looks at me like she has no idea what I just said to her. “That’s why I’m here? A cat.”
I rake my fingers through my hair before dropping my hand. “Can you get it out or not?”
She looks like she’s about ready to kick me in the balls but before she can a pitiful mewling sound leaks from the undercarriage of the car.
Her shoulders sag and she holds out her hand. “I need your flashlight.”
I don’t ask how she knows I have one. I just pull it out of my pocket and slap it into her hand. “Don’t—”
“Turn it on until I’m under the car.” She shakes her head at me before rolling her eyes at Ryan. “I’m not stupid.”
Giving her room to work, Ryan and I watch while she drops to the ground and lays on her back to shimmy her way under the car. A few muttered curses and a round of pitifully thin meows and the flashlight clicks off before Tess is shimmying her way back out with a lump zipped up in her jacket.
Standing, she brushes her hands off on the seat of her jeans. Approaching me, she reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out my flashlight. “You’re welcome.” She slaps it into my hand and keeps walking without a backward glance.
A few long-legged strides and I’m next to her. “Want a lift home?” It’s the last thing I should do but the offer comes out before I can think things through. Thankfully, one of us is thinking clearly.
“No.” She doesn’t look at me when I say it. She doesn’t have to. I can hear it in her voice. She’s angry. Not just whatever seems to be her default emotion whenever I’m around. For real angry.
“Because I’m an asshole.”
That stops her. “Because that car is a 2010 BMW 6 series,” she barely breathes it, her words going no further than my ears.
Shit.
I knew she’d figure it out. I mean fuck—if there’s anything Tesla Castinetti knows, it’s cars. It might be dark but it’s not that dark. Before I can work up the will to lie to her about where it came from and why I’m driving it, she turns and looks up at me, her jaw set. “Stay away from me.”
“Alright.” I bob my head, shoving my hands into my pockets because I’m about three seconds away from grabbing her and if I let myself get my hands on her, there’s no telling what kind of fucked up shit’ll happen next. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” She sounds sure. Like if she never sees me again, it’ll be too soon.
Too bad I can’t do it.