Page 41 of The Love Playbook

“Is that an actual compliment, Lettie?”

“Again with the annoying nickname.” I roll my eyes even as my lips twitch. “This carisprobably the coolest part about you, but don’t get used to compliments from me. Any second, I’m sure you’ll do or say something that’ll make the hair on the back of my neck rise.” When he opens his mouth to speak, I add, “And not in a good way.”

He snorts out a laugh and shifts gears. “It was my dad’s.”

I stare at the side of his face, wondering if he’ll elaborate when he says, “He owned a mechanic shop, and he was really into restoring vintage cars. Being the oldest, I used to sit out in the shop with him at night while he worked on them. Most of the cars he restored were for clients, but the Mustang Boss was his. Never got around to finishing it though, and when he died, my mom gave it to me. I was too young at the time to do much with it, but as soon as I was old enough to get a job, I scrimped and saved until I had enough to fix it up. Took me three years of hard work and pinching pennies.”

I inhale through the tightening in my chest, trying to keep my eyes north of his sexy-as-fuck stick-shifting hand while I contemplate this side of him. It’s so different from the Chris I see every day, the guy who takes nothing seriously and tends to view the world through rose-colored glasses.

This side of him throws me off balance, and I’m not sure I like it. I prefer my feet firmly on the ground.

Turning, I say nothing as I stare out the window, lost in my own thoughts and thinking about the impending visit to my mother.

Ten more minutes, and we’ll be at her house.

“So, where’s your car? In the shop somewhere?” he asks after a short time.

I shrug. “It’s a piece of junk. Broke down on the way to my mom’s after . . . well, the visit to my father last weekend,” I say, avoiding mention of the engagement.

“You know, I could probably take a look at it. I don’t know everything, but I?”

“It’s fine,” I cut him off. “I’ll work over Christmas break and make enough to cover the repairs,” I say, unwilling to accept his help.

“But there’s no point in paying someone when I can probably?”

“I said it’s fine,” I snap, turning to him.

His jaw tenses, the muscle flickering in his cheek. I can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just nods and says, “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Is it just me you don’t want help from?” he asks, his tone unbothered. “Or are you like this with everyone?”

I clench my jaw, refusing to answer because I don’t need anyone’s help, especially from a man.

This realization hits a little too close to home. I wonder if the girls are right. Maybe I do only talk to men when I know it won’t go anywhere.

When I say nothing, he persists. “So, after your parents split, did you spend more time at your mother’s or your father’s?”

Again, I ignore him, and again, he doesn’t take the hint. “Isn’t it weird to think we grew up only twenty minutes apart? I mean, we practically went to rival high schools. You probably saw me on the football field when we played Lockport. I bet you even wondered who the running back was with the tight ass and amazing hands.”

“You know, we really don’t have to talk the entire way,” I say, my voice flat. “Silence is underrated.”

“Damn. I would’ve liked you in high school,” he continues. “Always did have a thing for the girls with a mouth on them. Give me one that also plays hard to get, and I’m cooked.”

My head jerks toward him, eyes narrowed on his stupidly proportionate face. “I amnotplaying hard to get.”

“Are you saying you’re easy, Lettie?” Chris winks, and I want to punch him.

“What I’m saying is I’m not playing at all. I’m out of the game. Period. This isn’t some act. I know this is probably shocking news to you, but not every girl is automatically impressed because you can catch a pigskin at fifty yards.”

“Seventy.”

“What?” I blink at him.

“The furthest I’ve caught a ball during a game is from seventy yards.”

I growl and shake my head. “Whatever. My point is I’m just not interested, nor will Ieverbe interested.”