Page 5 of One Spicy Summer

I can’t stop smiling.

She hops in the driver’s seat like she’s been doing it her whole life. “Get in!” she grins. I slide in, and the engine growls to life. “Iloveit when she purrs like that.” I glance over. She’s bouncing in her seat like a kid on Christmas. “Why’re you looking at me like that?” she asks.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m about to wreck your baby.”

She has no idea. “It’s just a car, Prez.”

Her jaw drops. “Just a car?!” she gasps, petting the dash. “He didn’t mean that, baby. Forgive him.”

I turn to her, voice low. “Because you’re more important than this stupid car, Princess.”

She bites her lip, and I know I should look away.

But I can’t.

I reach out, wipe a smudge from her cheek, and for a second, it looks like I’m gonna kiss her.

She goes still.

But instead, I grab the seat belt and buckle her in.

“Safety first, Prez.”

She’s stunned, eyes wide. To ease the tension, I tease, “You do know how to drive a stick, right?”

She smirks, grabs the wheel with one hand, shifts with the other. “Do I know how to drive a stick? And you call yourself my brother.”

Then she peels out like a bat outta hell.

“Hold on, Ry.”

And I do.

To the wheel.

To this girl.

To the hope that one day… she’ll be mine.

Chapter Three

Rygaard

Tossing the basketball toward the hoop on the back of Rafe’s door, I watch it bounce off the rim and clatter to the floor.

Rafe bursts in, face stormy. His jaw clenched, eyes burning. Something’s got him tight.

“Dude, you just screwed up my shot,” I say, laughing as I snag the ball.

“Don’t start, Ry,” he snaps.

“What now?” I ask, already bracing myself for another Presley problem.

It always is these days.

Since she hit her glow-up, Presley’s been on every guy’s radar, and it’s driving Rafe insane. Not that I’m any better. I just hide it more.

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