Like Dragonflies, page 6
I rush over to the passenger side before he can get out. I clasp my hands under my chin and say, “Hurry, before my dad comes out.” He pauses for a second then reaches over to open the door for me.
“Are you sneaking out?” Mars asks, a smirk playing on his perfect lips.
“No. My dad knows I’m leaving. I just didn’t tell him I was going on a date so…let’s go before he comes out here and makes things awkward.” I laugh a little before clicking the seat belt into place.
My gaze drops to Mars’s hand as he grips the gearshift thingy and puts the big truck in motion. I’m in awe. Not from the fact he drives a stick shift, but from how the muscles in his forearms flex as he wields control of this metal beast.
I run my hand along the space between our seats and smile as the old leather skims my palm. “How old is this thing?” I ask. I marvel at the fine lines stretching out over the surface.
“Oh, uh…it’s about thirty years old. Too old. The second I can, I’m going to get something newer,” he says. His brows fall low on his forehead, and I see thoughts running rampant through his mind. I wish I could dissect them like a skilled surgeon and pluck out everything he hides away.
“Why? I like it,” I tell him. I’m suddenly aware of how nicely he’s dressed. He’s wearing a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of black slacks.
Shit.
I’m underdressed.
“Um, Mars,” I say, looking down at my blue jeans and Pearl Jam tee.
“Yeah?” He casts a quick glance at me, and I think he notices I’m not dressed for wherever we’re going.
“You never told me where you were taking me to eat. I feel like I should have worn something…nicer.” I regret putting back the fancy outfit now.
So stupid, Sage.
I bounce my knuckle against my lip and glance out of the window, hoping I haven’t made a fool out of myself.
“Yeah…that’s my fault.” He grips the steering wheel tighter and blows out a frustrated breath. “I should have told you what to wear. I’m sorry, Sage.” He keeps apologizing but all I can focus on is the way he says my name. The way his lips look forming the letters has my throat ready to close up completely.
“It’s fine,” I stammer, shaking my head.
“I thought I’d take you out somewhere nice.” We stop at a red light and the truck rumbles and knocks. The vibrations make my thighs buzz. They buzz more when I look at Mars. “A girl like you deserves to be taken out somewhere nice.” His words are sweet and they spread warmth all over me.
“A girl like me?” I quiz.
“Soft-spoken. Sweet. Beautiful.” His words hang in the air and I want to reach up and grab them. I want to clutch them close to my chest so they’ll be closer to my heart.
“Beautiful? Nobody has ever called me beautiful. Not like that,” I tell him. I can’t pull my gaze away from his perfect profile. His jawline holds the slightest dusting of hair, and my fingers ache to skim across it to see how it feels.
“I refuse to believe that.” His laugh lights up the small space we share and my heart quickens at the happy sound. “I’m sure all the guys in Ashton Hills are beating down your door.”
“Not at all. I’m not their type.” My eyes go wide when Mars pulls in front of Giovanni’s.
“Mars, I had no idea you were bringing me here.” I look down at my clothes and sigh.
“You don’t like this place? It has all five-star reviews on Yelp and…”
I cut him off abruptly and shake my head. “It’s not that,” I say. “There’s a dress code. No jeans. No T-shirts. I’m wearing both.” I feel like such a loser. Embarrassment washes over me. It’s hot and itchy and it makes me squirm in my seat.
Mars lays a reassuring hand on my leg and the embarrassment evaporates. Something else takes its place. Something jittery and incessant. “We can go somewhere else. Honestly, being with you is the only thing I care about.” He stares at me for a few seconds, lingering on my eyes. I wonder what he sees in them because he looks at me like they hold constellations.
“I feel horrible for messing everything up.” I chew on my bottom lip and search for the stone wall. It’s not there.
“Hey.” Mars takes my hand and our fingers interlock.
Whoa.
My pulse jumps to my throat making it hard to breathe. Is this what it’s like to hold hands? Holy hell.
The feeling of his fingers between mine forces my mind to think about how his fingers would feel…other places. Heat spills into my belly and I fight the urge to fidget.
“It’s not your fault. Let me take you to another nice restaurant. We’ll eat and I can get to know you.” His eyes are the softest shade of denim blue, and for a moment, I’m lost in them.
“Sounds perfect,” I say.
Mars’s fingers linger on mine for a second before he lets go of my hand. He drives off and in five minutes we’re at Juniper. It’s way more relaxed than Giovanni’s but there’s still valet parking. “I’ll park it myself,” Mars tells the valet. His shoulders are stiff and his jaw ticks when he pulls off to find a space. Like he can read my mind, he says, “I hate when other people drive my truck. I never know when it’s going to just die.”
He pulls into a space and kills the engine. “See why I hate this old thing?” He scoffs before hopping out. I watch his smooth stride over to my side. Mars walks like he owns the world. I can almost see the crimson aura floating around him…just like the dragonfly I painted.
“Thank you.” I nod as he helps me out of the tall truck. When I step down, I realize how much taller than me he is. I have to tip my head back to see his face.
“Wow, you’re tiny.”
“You’re welcome would have worked just fine,” I say with a laugh. His hand finds mine again and our palms touch.
I’m so grateful to sit down at a table because I’m not sure how much longer my legs would hold me up. Mars short-circuits my brain and makes everything fuzzy.
Our booth is cozy and close, I can see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes and I get lost mapping them out. “What are you thinking about, Sage? Whenever I see you…you’re always lost in your thoughts.” He tips his head to the side to study me the same way I’m studying him.
I bring my shoulders up around my ears a bit and shrug. I usually keep my thoughts to myself, but something about Mars makes me open up like a flower under the sun. I stretch my petals toward him and spill. “I was looking at the colors in your eyes and figuring out what colors I’d use to paint them.” The truth tumbles out and I expect for him to look at me like I’m insane. Like most people would.
Instead, he smiles. It’s a perfect smile, showing perfect white teeth, and making those denim blue eyes of his dance. “So you’re a painter?” he asks. His hand moves across the table to mine and he unfolds my curled fingers again. I revel in the smooth feeling that washes over me.
I realize I want more moments like this one. More moments where I connect with someone. More moments with Mars.
“That explains the paint-smudged fingertips.”
“You like art too,” I say. “I saw you sketching when I came into the shop.”
“Yeah. I like to draw…and I guess I like paint too.” I miss the warmth from his hand when he lets mine go. His long fingers fidget with his rolled up sleeve, and I pick up on his hesitance.
“You guess you like paint? Either you do or you don’t.” I flash him a smile and he pauses for a brief moment. The way he looks at me makes me tingle everywhere.
Everywhere.
“I do. I just don’t paint the way you do. Let me guess, you sit in front of an easel with a paintbrush between your pretty little fingers making magic, right?” He lifts a dark eyebrow at me and I blush a bit.
“Something like that,” I say with a shrug.
“I’m sure it’s exactly like that. My art isn’t as pretty. I like graffiti.” He watches me like he expects me to get up and walk out or something. I couldn’t walk away from him if I wanted to.
“That’s so fucking cool.” I grin. “I’ve always loved graffiti. The bold colors and lines are beautiful.”
“You just keep getting better and better. I thought you would turn your nose up at it.” A half-smile lifts one side of his mouth.
“I love all art.” We fall into a long stretch of silence, but nothing about it feels clunky or awkward. I sink into the way he stares at me because it makes me feel pretty.
“Can I ask you a question?” Mars watches me for an answer.
“Sure,” I drag out the word, wondering what he wants to ask.
“Why don’t I ever see you driving? The first time I saw you, I watched you walk off but you never got into a car. The second time, your dad drove you.” He wasn’t kidding when he said he noticed everything about me.
“My mother doesn’t really want me driving around. If she had her way, I’d be chauffeured everywhere.” I roll my eyes at the thought of my mother. “I thought about asking Dad for a car on my birthday. It’s this spring.”
“I have a spring birthday too.” He grins. “You definitely need a car. Who wants to be driven around all the time? There’s just something about driving that makes me feel like I have some semblance of control over my life.”
Wouldn’t that be nice? I certainly don’t know the feeling.
“Hey,” I say, perking up a bit. “Will you teach me how to drive a stick?” Mars laughs and the sound is intoxicating.
“Yeah. I’ll teach you.” The glint in his blue eyes is unmistakable. I want to see more of it. So much more.
Mars and I talk until our food comes out—and even after it’s on the table—we talk until it turns cold. “I guess we better get to-go boxes,” he says chuckling.
“I think you’re right.” I look at my phone and note Mom will be home soon, and she’s the last person I want asking me tons of questions.
Mars calls over our waitress and asks for the check and two doggy bags. “I meant for us to actually eat the food.” He sighs.
“Well, I promise to think about you when I eat it,” I tell him with a smile. He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and gives me a look that turns me into a pile of ash in my seat. Mars is painfully sexy. I’m sure he knows it too.
“I’ll hold you to it,” he quips.
He pays for our food with cash and then we leave. I realize I like the feeling of my hand in his, so I slip my fingers between his while we walk back to his truck. I look up at the night sky for a moment, wondering if the stars are shining brighter tonight or if I’m just floating on a cloud.
Mars opens my door then places his hand on the small of my back to help me in. My skin warms to his touch as if my body has known him forever. “Thanks,” I manage to say, even though my throat is a desert.
He flashes a wolfish grin and my belly clenches at the sight of it. What is he doing to me? I try not to stare like a creep when he hops in the driver’s side with ease. He pushes out a long breath then turns the key in the ignition.
The engine tries to come to life but then sputters out. “Come on,” Mars grumbles, then tries again with no luck. A storm cloud floats over him and his mood turns sour.
I watch with curious eyes as he gets out and pops the hood. I can’t just sit here like a princess in a tower, so I get out and stand beside him, even though I have no idea what the hell I’m looking at. “What’s wrong?” I ask, peering at the engine with him.
“Battery’s dead. I need a jump. I have cables but I don’t think any of these people would be willing to help me out.” He slides his fingers through his hair but it still falls across his forehead. It does whatever it wants…like my hair.
Before Mars can say another word, I’m heading across the parking lot toward a couple standing near a Lexus SUV. I approach with my best Eleanor Emerson smile and wave at them. “Hi, I’m Sage and my friend and I need a jump.” My heart pounds in my chest, but I know Mars won’t ask. He’s too proud. I point to Mars’s truck and the guy nods.
“Sure, we’ll give you guys a jump. No problem.” He glances at the pickup across the parking lot then shares a look with the woman he’s with. It’s a smug look. One I’m certain Mars was trying to avoid but I ignore it. As I head back to the huge truck, anger tenses my muscles.
They are judgmental pieces of shit, but as long as they give Mars a jump, I don’t care. They ride over in their shiny Lexus and pop their hood. Mars’s jaw is tight as he connects the cables to his battery then theirs.
The guy gets in his SUV and revs the engine a few times. “Try it now,” he calls out to Mars. This time when Mars turns the key, the truck rumbles to life. The guy gives Mars a thumbs-up and waits patiently while the cars are disconnected.
“Thank you, sir,” Mars grits out before forcing a polite smile. I can tell the entire interaction has turned his mood and I hate it. He’s quiet on the way back to my house and I give him room to brood.
I have so many questions I want to ask him. So many things I want to say. I know now isn’t the time though. Once again, I find myself wanting to pluck the thoughts from his brain.
We pull up in front of my house fifteen minutes later, and I nervously tap my knuckle against my lip.
“Thank you for asking that couple for a jump,” he finally says.
“You’re welcome,” I mutter.
“I guess you’re not always shy, huh?” He smiles a little and the storm cloud lifts from over him.
“I think you make me a little bolder.”
“I’m sorry tonight wasn’t…special.” He sighs. My brows crash together as I stare at him, my knuckle is moving faster now.
“Not special? It was amazing, Mars.”
“Nothing went the way it was supposed to go.” He looks at me and I feel the moment swell between us. “That was all my fault.” He stares at me then drops his eyes to my mouth. “Spending time with you made everything better though.” He’s staring at my mouth again and I think I might melt into a puddle.
I want him to kiss me.
I think he wants to kiss me.
He tugs on my wrist, pulling my hand away from my mouth and I can feel it. I can feel how badly he wants to press his lips to mine. My throat is tight with anticipation. I can barely breathe, and for once it’s not because of that stupid wall.
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he leans in closer. I’m practically squirming in my seat. Our lips are too close for us not to kiss.
“I—I had a great time hanging out with you, Sage. I’ll text you when I get home.” He pulls back and my chest cracks open, disappointment oozing everywhere. I blink a few times and nod my head.
“Yeah…I had a great time too, Mars.” I grab my to-go bag and hop out of the huge truck, leaving behind drops of disappointment as I go in the house.
Mars
I should have kissed her.
God, I am such an idiot.
Her lips had parted. Her green eyes were wide and inviting me closer.
I wanted to. Fuck, how I wanted to.
But then I froze. Who was I even kidding? I’m Mars McKinney. Fuckup extraordinaire. Sage is beautiful and fragile. Like a pretty glass ornament sitting on a shelf way above me. It shines and beckons for me to touch it.
If I touch it, though, it’ll fall and break.
That’s what I do.
Break things.
“That’s the fourth order you’ve screwed up,” Jimmy complains when he sets down a new burger basket in the window.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
Jimmy’s cousin, Collette, sidles up next to me and bumps me with her hip. “What’s going on, Mars?”
I grab the basket and shrug. “Just a girl.”
I ignore her squeal as I deliver the basket. She’s waiting for me with a big grin on her face when I make my way back behind the counter.
“What?” I grumble.
She snorts out a laugh. “Oh, you know what. I’ve lived in this town my entire life and went to school with your smug ass. Not once have I ever seen you flustered over a girl. Women fall all over themselves for you, not the other way around. She really must be something. Who is she?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “A girl I met at The Grind House.”
“In Ashton Hills?” she clarifies.
“Yep.”
Her lips purse together and she studies me. “You’re smart and you’ll go places one day. But don’t let one of those snobby Ashton Hills girls get you in a twist.” She rubs her pregnant belly. “You ought to find you a nice Duncan girl, honey.”
I don’t want a nice Duncan girl.
I want Sage.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, just to get her off my back.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Sage: What’s the dress code for our Saturday night date do-over, dragonfly?
Dragonfly.
Me: Dress comfortably and warm.
Sage: I can’t wait.
The thumping in my chest that always presents itself whenever I think of Sage comes roaring to life. A genuine smile tugs at my lips. When the world and self-doubt crush in on me, she gives me a breath of fresh air.
I don’t want a nice Duncan girl.
I need the nice girl from Ashton Hills.
And it scares the hell out of me.
I fidget as I wait at her front door. A few seconds after I knock, the door flies open. Each time I see Sage, her nerves seem to shed away. Meanwhile, I feel nervous as fuck.
She’s so beautiful.
Her green eyes are lined in little bit of mascara and her cheeks have the rosiest, natural glow to them. It’s her lips though I become fixated on. Lips I wanted to kiss the other day but didn’t have the balls to do.
I won’t break her.
It’s hard getting my dad’s condescending voice out of my head, but there are some things deep down inside of me I know are true. Sage is special and I want to make her feel that way. Whatever it is Dad has programmed into me to think, it’s not true. Yes, she may be well above my social standing and probably has more money than anyone I know, based on the size of her big-ass house, but it doesn’t mean I can’t see her. She clearly likes me as much as I like her. The only one I’m letting ruin this is my father.
“Are you sneaking out?” Mars asks, a smirk playing on his perfect lips.
“No. My dad knows I’m leaving. I just didn’t tell him I was going on a date so…let’s go before he comes out here and makes things awkward.” I laugh a little before clicking the seat belt into place.
My gaze drops to Mars’s hand as he grips the gearshift thingy and puts the big truck in motion. I’m in awe. Not from the fact he drives a stick shift, but from how the muscles in his forearms flex as he wields control of this metal beast.
I run my hand along the space between our seats and smile as the old leather skims my palm. “How old is this thing?” I ask. I marvel at the fine lines stretching out over the surface.
“Oh, uh…it’s about thirty years old. Too old. The second I can, I’m going to get something newer,” he says. His brows fall low on his forehead, and I see thoughts running rampant through his mind. I wish I could dissect them like a skilled surgeon and pluck out everything he hides away.
“Why? I like it,” I tell him. I’m suddenly aware of how nicely he’s dressed. He’s wearing a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of black slacks.
Shit.
I’m underdressed.
“Um, Mars,” I say, looking down at my blue jeans and Pearl Jam tee.
“Yeah?” He casts a quick glance at me, and I think he notices I’m not dressed for wherever we’re going.
“You never told me where you were taking me to eat. I feel like I should have worn something…nicer.” I regret putting back the fancy outfit now.
So stupid, Sage.
I bounce my knuckle against my lip and glance out of the window, hoping I haven’t made a fool out of myself.
“Yeah…that’s my fault.” He grips the steering wheel tighter and blows out a frustrated breath. “I should have told you what to wear. I’m sorry, Sage.” He keeps apologizing but all I can focus on is the way he says my name. The way his lips look forming the letters has my throat ready to close up completely.
“It’s fine,” I stammer, shaking my head.
“I thought I’d take you out somewhere nice.” We stop at a red light and the truck rumbles and knocks. The vibrations make my thighs buzz. They buzz more when I look at Mars. “A girl like you deserves to be taken out somewhere nice.” His words are sweet and they spread warmth all over me.
“A girl like me?” I quiz.
“Soft-spoken. Sweet. Beautiful.” His words hang in the air and I want to reach up and grab them. I want to clutch them close to my chest so they’ll be closer to my heart.
“Beautiful? Nobody has ever called me beautiful. Not like that,” I tell him. I can’t pull my gaze away from his perfect profile. His jawline holds the slightest dusting of hair, and my fingers ache to skim across it to see how it feels.
“I refuse to believe that.” His laugh lights up the small space we share and my heart quickens at the happy sound. “I’m sure all the guys in Ashton Hills are beating down your door.”
“Not at all. I’m not their type.” My eyes go wide when Mars pulls in front of Giovanni’s.
“Mars, I had no idea you were bringing me here.” I look down at my clothes and sigh.
“You don’t like this place? It has all five-star reviews on Yelp and…”
I cut him off abruptly and shake my head. “It’s not that,” I say. “There’s a dress code. No jeans. No T-shirts. I’m wearing both.” I feel like such a loser. Embarrassment washes over me. It’s hot and itchy and it makes me squirm in my seat.
Mars lays a reassuring hand on my leg and the embarrassment evaporates. Something else takes its place. Something jittery and incessant. “We can go somewhere else. Honestly, being with you is the only thing I care about.” He stares at me for a few seconds, lingering on my eyes. I wonder what he sees in them because he looks at me like they hold constellations.
“I feel horrible for messing everything up.” I chew on my bottom lip and search for the stone wall. It’s not there.
“Hey.” Mars takes my hand and our fingers interlock.
Whoa.
My pulse jumps to my throat making it hard to breathe. Is this what it’s like to hold hands? Holy hell.
The feeling of his fingers between mine forces my mind to think about how his fingers would feel…other places. Heat spills into my belly and I fight the urge to fidget.
“It’s not your fault. Let me take you to another nice restaurant. We’ll eat and I can get to know you.” His eyes are the softest shade of denim blue, and for a moment, I’m lost in them.
“Sounds perfect,” I say.
Mars’s fingers linger on mine for a second before he lets go of my hand. He drives off and in five minutes we’re at Juniper. It’s way more relaxed than Giovanni’s but there’s still valet parking. “I’ll park it myself,” Mars tells the valet. His shoulders are stiff and his jaw ticks when he pulls off to find a space. Like he can read my mind, he says, “I hate when other people drive my truck. I never know when it’s going to just die.”
He pulls into a space and kills the engine. “See why I hate this old thing?” He scoffs before hopping out. I watch his smooth stride over to my side. Mars walks like he owns the world. I can almost see the crimson aura floating around him…just like the dragonfly I painted.
“Thank you.” I nod as he helps me out of the tall truck. When I step down, I realize how much taller than me he is. I have to tip my head back to see his face.
“Wow, you’re tiny.”
“You’re welcome would have worked just fine,” I say with a laugh. His hand finds mine again and our palms touch.
I’m so grateful to sit down at a table because I’m not sure how much longer my legs would hold me up. Mars short-circuits my brain and makes everything fuzzy.
Our booth is cozy and close, I can see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes and I get lost mapping them out. “What are you thinking about, Sage? Whenever I see you…you’re always lost in your thoughts.” He tips his head to the side to study me the same way I’m studying him.
I bring my shoulders up around my ears a bit and shrug. I usually keep my thoughts to myself, but something about Mars makes me open up like a flower under the sun. I stretch my petals toward him and spill. “I was looking at the colors in your eyes and figuring out what colors I’d use to paint them.” The truth tumbles out and I expect for him to look at me like I’m insane. Like most people would.
Instead, he smiles. It’s a perfect smile, showing perfect white teeth, and making those denim blue eyes of his dance. “So you’re a painter?” he asks. His hand moves across the table to mine and he unfolds my curled fingers again. I revel in the smooth feeling that washes over me.
I realize I want more moments like this one. More moments where I connect with someone. More moments with Mars.
“That explains the paint-smudged fingertips.”
“You like art too,” I say. “I saw you sketching when I came into the shop.”
“Yeah. I like to draw…and I guess I like paint too.” I miss the warmth from his hand when he lets mine go. His long fingers fidget with his rolled up sleeve, and I pick up on his hesitance.
“You guess you like paint? Either you do or you don’t.” I flash him a smile and he pauses for a brief moment. The way he looks at me makes me tingle everywhere.
Everywhere.
“I do. I just don’t paint the way you do. Let me guess, you sit in front of an easel with a paintbrush between your pretty little fingers making magic, right?” He lifts a dark eyebrow at me and I blush a bit.
“Something like that,” I say with a shrug.
“I’m sure it’s exactly like that. My art isn’t as pretty. I like graffiti.” He watches me like he expects me to get up and walk out or something. I couldn’t walk away from him if I wanted to.
“That’s so fucking cool.” I grin. “I’ve always loved graffiti. The bold colors and lines are beautiful.”
“You just keep getting better and better. I thought you would turn your nose up at it.” A half-smile lifts one side of his mouth.
“I love all art.” We fall into a long stretch of silence, but nothing about it feels clunky or awkward. I sink into the way he stares at me because it makes me feel pretty.
“Can I ask you a question?” Mars watches me for an answer.
“Sure,” I drag out the word, wondering what he wants to ask.
“Why don’t I ever see you driving? The first time I saw you, I watched you walk off but you never got into a car. The second time, your dad drove you.” He wasn’t kidding when he said he noticed everything about me.
“My mother doesn’t really want me driving around. If she had her way, I’d be chauffeured everywhere.” I roll my eyes at the thought of my mother. “I thought about asking Dad for a car on my birthday. It’s this spring.”
“I have a spring birthday too.” He grins. “You definitely need a car. Who wants to be driven around all the time? There’s just something about driving that makes me feel like I have some semblance of control over my life.”
Wouldn’t that be nice? I certainly don’t know the feeling.
“Hey,” I say, perking up a bit. “Will you teach me how to drive a stick?” Mars laughs and the sound is intoxicating.
“Yeah. I’ll teach you.” The glint in his blue eyes is unmistakable. I want to see more of it. So much more.
Mars and I talk until our food comes out—and even after it’s on the table—we talk until it turns cold. “I guess we better get to-go boxes,” he says chuckling.
“I think you’re right.” I look at my phone and note Mom will be home soon, and she’s the last person I want asking me tons of questions.
Mars calls over our waitress and asks for the check and two doggy bags. “I meant for us to actually eat the food.” He sighs.
“Well, I promise to think about you when I eat it,” I tell him with a smile. He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and gives me a look that turns me into a pile of ash in my seat. Mars is painfully sexy. I’m sure he knows it too.
“I’ll hold you to it,” he quips.
He pays for our food with cash and then we leave. I realize I like the feeling of my hand in his, so I slip my fingers between his while we walk back to his truck. I look up at the night sky for a moment, wondering if the stars are shining brighter tonight or if I’m just floating on a cloud.
Mars opens my door then places his hand on the small of my back to help me in. My skin warms to his touch as if my body has known him forever. “Thanks,” I manage to say, even though my throat is a desert.
He flashes a wolfish grin and my belly clenches at the sight of it. What is he doing to me? I try not to stare like a creep when he hops in the driver’s side with ease. He pushes out a long breath then turns the key in the ignition.
The engine tries to come to life but then sputters out. “Come on,” Mars grumbles, then tries again with no luck. A storm cloud floats over him and his mood turns sour.
I watch with curious eyes as he gets out and pops the hood. I can’t just sit here like a princess in a tower, so I get out and stand beside him, even though I have no idea what the hell I’m looking at. “What’s wrong?” I ask, peering at the engine with him.
“Battery’s dead. I need a jump. I have cables but I don’t think any of these people would be willing to help me out.” He slides his fingers through his hair but it still falls across his forehead. It does whatever it wants…like my hair.
Before Mars can say another word, I’m heading across the parking lot toward a couple standing near a Lexus SUV. I approach with my best Eleanor Emerson smile and wave at them. “Hi, I’m Sage and my friend and I need a jump.” My heart pounds in my chest, but I know Mars won’t ask. He’s too proud. I point to Mars’s truck and the guy nods.
“Sure, we’ll give you guys a jump. No problem.” He glances at the pickup across the parking lot then shares a look with the woman he’s with. It’s a smug look. One I’m certain Mars was trying to avoid but I ignore it. As I head back to the huge truck, anger tenses my muscles.
They are judgmental pieces of shit, but as long as they give Mars a jump, I don’t care. They ride over in their shiny Lexus and pop their hood. Mars’s jaw is tight as he connects the cables to his battery then theirs.
The guy gets in his SUV and revs the engine a few times. “Try it now,” he calls out to Mars. This time when Mars turns the key, the truck rumbles to life. The guy gives Mars a thumbs-up and waits patiently while the cars are disconnected.
“Thank you, sir,” Mars grits out before forcing a polite smile. I can tell the entire interaction has turned his mood and I hate it. He’s quiet on the way back to my house and I give him room to brood.
I have so many questions I want to ask him. So many things I want to say. I know now isn’t the time though. Once again, I find myself wanting to pluck the thoughts from his brain.
We pull up in front of my house fifteen minutes later, and I nervously tap my knuckle against my lip.
“Thank you for asking that couple for a jump,” he finally says.
“You’re welcome,” I mutter.
“I guess you’re not always shy, huh?” He smiles a little and the storm cloud lifts from over him.
“I think you make me a little bolder.”
“I’m sorry tonight wasn’t…special.” He sighs. My brows crash together as I stare at him, my knuckle is moving faster now.
“Not special? It was amazing, Mars.”
“Nothing went the way it was supposed to go.” He looks at me and I feel the moment swell between us. “That was all my fault.” He stares at me then drops his eyes to my mouth. “Spending time with you made everything better though.” He’s staring at my mouth again and I think I might melt into a puddle.
I want him to kiss me.
I think he wants to kiss me.
He tugs on my wrist, pulling my hand away from my mouth and I can feel it. I can feel how badly he wants to press his lips to mine. My throat is tight with anticipation. I can barely breathe, and for once it’s not because of that stupid wall.
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he leans in closer. I’m practically squirming in my seat. Our lips are too close for us not to kiss.
“I—I had a great time hanging out with you, Sage. I’ll text you when I get home.” He pulls back and my chest cracks open, disappointment oozing everywhere. I blink a few times and nod my head.
“Yeah…I had a great time too, Mars.” I grab my to-go bag and hop out of the huge truck, leaving behind drops of disappointment as I go in the house.
Mars
I should have kissed her.
God, I am such an idiot.
Her lips had parted. Her green eyes were wide and inviting me closer.
I wanted to. Fuck, how I wanted to.
But then I froze. Who was I even kidding? I’m Mars McKinney. Fuckup extraordinaire. Sage is beautiful and fragile. Like a pretty glass ornament sitting on a shelf way above me. It shines and beckons for me to touch it.
If I touch it, though, it’ll fall and break.
That’s what I do.
Break things.
“That’s the fourth order you’ve screwed up,” Jimmy complains when he sets down a new burger basket in the window.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
Jimmy’s cousin, Collette, sidles up next to me and bumps me with her hip. “What’s going on, Mars?”
I grab the basket and shrug. “Just a girl.”
I ignore her squeal as I deliver the basket. She’s waiting for me with a big grin on her face when I make my way back behind the counter.
“What?” I grumble.
She snorts out a laugh. “Oh, you know what. I’ve lived in this town my entire life and went to school with your smug ass. Not once have I ever seen you flustered over a girl. Women fall all over themselves for you, not the other way around. She really must be something. Who is she?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “A girl I met at The Grind House.”
“In Ashton Hills?” she clarifies.
“Yep.”
Her lips purse together and she studies me. “You’re smart and you’ll go places one day. But don’t let one of those snobby Ashton Hills girls get you in a twist.” She rubs her pregnant belly. “You ought to find you a nice Duncan girl, honey.”
I don’t want a nice Duncan girl.
I want Sage.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, just to get her off my back.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Sage: What’s the dress code for our Saturday night date do-over, dragonfly?
Dragonfly.
Me: Dress comfortably and warm.
Sage: I can’t wait.
The thumping in my chest that always presents itself whenever I think of Sage comes roaring to life. A genuine smile tugs at my lips. When the world and self-doubt crush in on me, she gives me a breath of fresh air.
I don’t want a nice Duncan girl.
I need the nice girl from Ashton Hills.
And it scares the hell out of me.
I fidget as I wait at her front door. A few seconds after I knock, the door flies open. Each time I see Sage, her nerves seem to shed away. Meanwhile, I feel nervous as fuck.
She’s so beautiful.
Her green eyes are lined in little bit of mascara and her cheeks have the rosiest, natural glow to them. It’s her lips though I become fixated on. Lips I wanted to kiss the other day but didn’t have the balls to do.
I won’t break her.
It’s hard getting my dad’s condescending voice out of my head, but there are some things deep down inside of me I know are true. Sage is special and I want to make her feel that way. Whatever it is Dad has programmed into me to think, it’s not true. Yes, she may be well above my social standing and probably has more money than anyone I know, based on the size of her big-ass house, but it doesn’t mean I can’t see her. She clearly likes me as much as I like her. The only one I’m letting ruin this is my father.
