Page 14

“What are you doing out here?” Luke leans forward and cups his giant hands around his eyes, I guess so he can get a closer look at my despair.

This is my karma. I should’ve known better.

I thought I had reached the limit of my rock bottom, but just like Lindsay Lohan tried to warn us, the limit does not exist.

Back-to-school night went too well and I got cocky. I forgot just how much the universe loves to humble me. But at least looking at it that way, I can see that as far as cosmic punishment goes, this could be much worse. Luke might be an asshole, but at least he’s not a murderer.

Or…at least I hope.

The jury’s still out on that though.

“Oh, you know”—I open the door since I can’t roll down my windows—“just enjoying a quiet night sitting in my car, taking in the view of Nester Fox Elementary.”

His eyebrows knit together, and he stares at me much like he did after he found out I joined Petunia Lemon. “Enjoying a quiet night? Taking in the view of Nester Fox?”

“Yes.” I stare back at him, hoping he loses interest. The sun might be setting and I might have no way home, but I could be going on day three with no water and even that wouldn’t be enough for me to let Luke know I was in trouble.

“Yes?” he repeats after me again.

“Yes!” I throw my hands up in the air. “Are you just going to stand there repeating everything I say?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to tell me why you’re sitting alone in the parking lot, beating the shit out of your steering wheel and turning the parking lot into a one-man symphony.” He straightens to his full height, and tragically, I feel it between my thighs. “Then yes, I am.”

I try to keep up my grumpy exterior, but inside I’m not only thrilled that I’m not stranded and alone anymore, but I’m also extremely turned on. “I don’t understand how someone as annoying as you can have such a great kid.”

“I don’t know either.” He opens my car door wider and gestures for me to get out. I don’t want to follow orders, but my body is still under his spell and reacts without my approval. “My mom is pretty great though. I think it might skip a generation.”

“That must be it,” I agree, biting back my smile, because even though he’s not saying it outright, I can read between the lines. And what he’s saying is that if Isla doesn’t get it from him, she’s definitely not getting it from her mom.

I met his ex-wife, Jacqueline, on the first day of school, but I had the chance to really experience her tonight.

And what an experience it was.

She was so loud, constantly interrupting the presentation with questions that I had either already answered or didn’t relate to the topic at hand at all.

I don’t have any proof, but I’m willing to bet that her rose-gold water bottle was filled with wine.

She also called me Miss Pearson all night.

I corrected her three times before I gave up altogether.

And while all of that was entertaining, the crème de la crème came when she hit on the dad sitting next to her…

despite her ex-husband being in the room and the man’s wife sitting next to him.

When Luke stood up and quietly asked her to join him in the hallway, the other parents erupted into applause.

It was a secondhand embarrassment unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and even though I’m excited to have another story to tell at parties, I hope it’s a night that never repeats itself. I can still feel the cringe lingering in my bones.

“So what’s going on with your car?” He folds into my driver’s seat, sliding it back so he can stretch his long legs. “Do you have issues with it often?”

“Never.” I shake my head. “My girl’s a Honda. She’s been my reliable companion for over a decade.”

He twists the key in the ignition, and the click click click that’s been tormenting me cuts through the air.

A part of me that I will never publicly acknowledge is thrilled. I know firsthand how good he is at turning someone on, but I would’ve taken it very personally if my car started for him but not me.

“That’s what she’s been doing for me,” I tell him. “She did it yesterday too, but then she started just fine. So I thought maybe it was just like a cold or something. But do you think it’s more serious?”

I’m trying my hardest to keep my feelings locked on the inside, but the longer I sit idle in the parking lot, the more they start seeping through my panic-sized cracks.

This cannot be serious because there’s no world where I can afford a new car right now.

I already struggle with my insurance and the ever-rising cost of gas.

The thought of adding a car payment to my staggering monthly bill lineup is straight up debilitating.

“It did this yesterday and you thought”—he pauses as if he needs a moment to process my words—“it had a cold?”

“Well yeah.” I shrug, not quite understanding what he’s not understanding. “You know how sometimes your car will act funny and then they’re fine later that day? She has days like that all the time, but she always gets better.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?” Hope and disbelief color his words. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

I shake my head, unclear on what the joke would be.

“Why would I be joking?”

“Jesus, Emerson.” He closes his eyes and drags a hand across his face. “How are you so smart and so naive at the same time?”

“What can I say?” I smirk, knowing it’s as much an insult as it is a compliment, but ignoring it since he’s my only chance of getting my car to start. “It’s a gift.”

“It’s something, alright.”

He shakes his head once more before he leans over and runs his hand beneath the steering wheel. I’m not sure what he’s doing until he finds a lever and pops open the hood of my car.

I move to the side as he climbs out and then try to keep my jaw from hitting the floor when he pulls off his suit jacket and unbuttons his cuffs, rolling them up to expose his forearms. It’s truly the most innocent, nonsexual thing in the entire world, but it feels like something out of my X-rated fantasies.

There is something so overtly sexual about a man’s bare forearms that just a glimpse causes heat to flood my cheeks.

“What do you think it is?” I don’t want to think of all of the worst-case scenarios that could potentially shove me off the cliff and into the ocean of financial ruin, but life-ruining news might be the only thing able to keep my eyes on his face and my mind from drifting to our night together.

“My mom needed to get a new engine in her car last year, and it cost more than this car is worth. Brakes too, but I don’t think brakes would make it not start. Right?”

I wish I could say rambling was a nervous tendency of mine, but it’s not. It’s just a tendency. I think it’s one of the reasons I work so well with kindergartners. We have the same winding, flowery storytelling techniques.

Instead of answering any of my multiple questions, he ignores me altogether and bends down to take a closer look under the hood.

While he’s doing that, I take a closer look at his trunk.

I can’t help myself! He’s so hot and the last time I saw that ass, it was naked and covered in scratches from my nails.

He has to be doing this on purpose.

He’s pretending to be some great guy, worried about my well-being, but I already know he doesn’t like me. What if this is some kind of ploy to catch a woman off guard and lure her to his bed? He could be the person who tampered with my car!

“It looks like your battery is dead and…fuck, Emerson.” His deep voice pulls me out of my conspiracy spiral. “When’s the last time you got an oil change?”

Oh.

That tracks.

Maybe I should lay off of the true crime podcasts a little bit.

“Ummm…” I try to think back to the last time my mom visited.

She brought her new boyfriend, Stephen, who tried to win my approval by taking my car for a tune-up and then got it detailed.

He did win my approval, but it had nothing to do with my car and everything to do with my mom’s smile.

“I think about eight months ago? No. That’s wrong. Probably closer to nine.”

“So a year?”

“Most likely.” I nod, not ashamed even though I know I should be. “Good to know that you’re as skilled in girl math as you are in car maintenance.”

“My marriage taught me a lot of things.” There’s laughter in his voice, but it doesn’t hide the sadness lingering behind it. “Math and maintenance were just a couple of them.”

“So…” As a certified yapper, I’m usually great at filling the silence and making a tense situation lighter.

But for some reason, I don’t know what to say to my former one-night stand, who happens to be my current student’s dad, about his completely whacked ex-wife.

Shocking, I know. “What were you doing here anyways?”

Back-to-school night was over an hour before I got to my car.

“Jacqueline wasn’t her best self so I drove her home…

to her home.” He leaves a lot of room for me to read between the lines and I do.

I knew there wasn’t water in her cup. “It was her night with Isla so I stayed a little while and had dinner with her and Jacqueline’s mom.

I was walking back to my car when I heard your impressive horn work and figured I’d be a Good Samaritan. ”

“Not the best night for either of us, but I guess I should consider myself lucky.” I think we’re both surprised by the sincerity in my voice. “Thanks for stopping.”

He grunts in response, and I take that as my cue to shut up.

He tinkers around for a few more minutes, twisting and lifting things while huffing out a profanity or two.

I, on the other hand, study the cracks decorating the parking lot pavement and anything else that will keep my eyes off of his ass…

and forearms…and hair. Anything that will keep them off of Luke, period.