Page 33 of The Flirty Forward

I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t running away from him.” I watch Amber raise her eyebrows to Brielle. “I wasn’t,” I reiterate.

“We believe you,” Brielle says, always the tender-hearted one. “What happened?” she asks cautiously.

I stare out the window. “He invited me for Sunday brunch with the entire family,” I tell them quietly.

“Wow, that jerk. That’s cause to run away from him,” Amber says dryly.

“Would you stop, Brat,” I say with humor in my voice.

Amber turns around in her seat. “Seriously, did something happen? Because I can beat him up for you.”

I laugh, in spite of myself. “There’s a thought—you and Sebastian going at it.”

“I’d totally win,” she says with a grin.

“You wish.”

“No, if something really did happen, I’d send Aiden after him,” Brielle says, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

I give a mock shudder. “Nowthatwould be terrifying.”

“What happened?” Bri asks again, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

“I don’t really know,” I say after a little bit. “It started out fine, good even. He let me drive his Corvette.”

Brielle’s eyes widen. “His Corvette?”

“It’s a C8,” I tell her.

“What’s a C8, and why do we care?” Amber asks.

“A C8 is only her favorite car in the entire world,” Brielle says.

Amber wrinkles her nose. “You’re into cars?” I nod, smiling at her look of distaste. “Weird,” she mumbles.

“You’reweird,” I retort. “It’s a cool car; I’ve always wanted to drive a C8.” I sigh. “It was as amazing as I thought it would be.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the Stephanie that loves fashion and girly stuff?” Amber asks, wrinkling her nose.

“My grandpa loved Corvettes,” I tell her. “He was restoring a 1970 Corvette Stingray before he died.”

“Did you get to help him?” Amber asks curiously.

“I did. I remember being a little girl and helping him in the garage. He would let me hand him the tools.” I smile to myself at the memory.

“How old were you when he passed away?” Bri asks softly.

“Eight.” I sigh. I miss him so much. My grandma passed away a few years before that, so I don’t remember her as much. But I remember my grandpa. Maybe because I spent more time with him than with my own parents. Because they were so busy, I spent a lot of time over at his house. After he died, I got my first babysitter. I remember babysitter after babysitter after school, on the weekends...always a babysitter until I was old enough to be by myself. I push those unpleasant memories away. “Anyway, his Corvette was really cool.”

“Why were you at his house this morning?” Brielle asks.

“Yeah, I want to know that too. Brielle said all the stuff of you two online after his game was just fake,” Amber adds.

“It was; it is,” I correct. “We went there this morning to get a photo of me at his house with his family. It’s supposed to make me look like not such a horrible person, thank you, Sebastian.”

“I’m sorry about all this,” Brielle says.

“Yeah. People are stupid. Nobody believes all that stuff they say about you. Who cares that you won’t go on a date with the amazing Sebastian Hart? It’s ridiculous,” Amber says.

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