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“I think it’s just me,” Grady muttered.

Lake shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “What’s just you?”

“Back-seat driving gets you a negative rating, apparently,” Grady said. He jammed his phone into his pocket and scanned the street. “It’s not my fault they didn’t know how to drive, and my plans were togetto my destination, not die on the way there.”

“Reasonable.” He’d only met Grady that night, and he was sure that his back-seat driving had been blunt, to the point, and had definitely hurt someone’s feelings. He didn’t seem like the kind of person to pull his punches. “C’mon, let me give you a lift.”

Grady turned to squint at him. “What?”

“A lift.” Lake pretended to steer a steering wheel in front of him. “Car goes vroom. Mine is just down there,” he said, pointing to a metallic-black Toyota RAV4 parked two cars down. “She’s still new, so there’s probably even a lingering new-car smell to help break up the dirty-sock smell.”

“You’re really selling this,” Grady said, the corner of his mouth lifting. Weird to think Lake knew what that mouth tasted like.

“Yeah, I’m a fantastic salesperson,” Lake said. “I couldn’t go into car sales, otherwise the world would have gone broke because I would have convinced everyone to buy one.”

“So you’re shadyandyour car smells?” Grady looked like he was fighting back a proper smile.

“Yeah.” Lake grinned. “But I can drive.”

“Anything with an engine,” Grady said. “I remember.”

Which Lake was glad for because back-seat drivingwasannoying. Lake could understand the Uber driver’s stance there even if maybe he’d asked for it by being a bad driver.

“You coming?” he asked.

“How much have you had to drink?” Grady asked suspiciously, not moving.

“Nothing.” Lake paused. “Well, no, I had a Coke and a lemonade. I think the juice I had was mango, but it could have been orange.”

“How do you mix up mango and orange juice?”

“Skill,” Lake said seriously.

Grady crossed his arms over his chest, unconvinced. In Lake’s defence, the juice had been one with multiple flavours, which could confuse anyone’s taste buds. Mangoandorange.

“Do I need to do a sobriety test?” Grady asked eventually.

“Depends which one,” Lake said. It didn’t matter, he was going to ace it. “Straight line? Alphabet backwards?” He began walking towards his car, and Grady followed, so Lake assumed that was a “yes.” “Maybe touching my nose with my tongue?”

“Please tell me an officer didn’t ask you to touch your nose with your tongue.” Grady sounded like the idea was physically hurting him.

It hadn’t happened, but Lake wished it had. That would have been fun. “I’ll have you know, I have never been pulled over for drunk driving, and all of my knowledge comes from RBT.”

“That’s not as comforting as you seem to think.”

“I thought it was pretty comforting. I’ve never even gotten a demerit point. I am the ultimate driving citizen.”

“Modest too,” Grady said dryly.

Lake unlocked his car and opened the passenger door for Grady. He could be a gentleman. “Do you need to see my licence and registration?”

Grady looked like he was contemplating it but then shook his head and slid into the seat.

“Please keep your arms and legs in the vehicle at all times,” Lake said jovially before he closed the door and slapped the roof.

“So,” Lake said as he clambered into the driver’s side and pressed the button to start the car. “Where am I going?”

“Chester Hill. Once you get there, I can direct you.”