Page 62 of Not That Ridiculous

“No, you haven’t.”

“Have.”

“All right. Come on, I’ll help you change it. I assume you have a spare?”

“No, I don’t.”

Another lie. No way was Kevin, proud owner of the tidiest car I’d ever been in, driving around without a spare.

He shifted again. One foot to the other.

I poked him.

He didn’t react.

I poked him again. “You’re telling me that if I go over there and inspect your tyres, one of them will definitely be flat?”

He pressed his lips together. “Are you going to give me a lift or not?”

“Yes. Of course. I’m a bit confused here, that’s all. You’ve got your own car and, if you really do have a flat, you skipped your shower and left a changing room full of gym bros you can ask for a lift to chase me out here and ask me instead. What’s going on?”

His eyes slowly dropped to my mouth and then equally slowly dragged back up. He let out a heavy breath.

“Kevin?”

He reached out and curled his hands around my hips, pulling me in. “I don’t want a lift home. I want to come home with you.”

“Okay. You can do that.” I didn’t have to sound so breathless about it.

His thumbs rubbed tiny circles over my hip bones. “I want to do stuff with you.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “You can do that, too. We can hang out. That sounds fun. Phil will be thrilled.”

His eyes gleamed with amusement and it took me a moment to understand why.

“Oh,” I said.

He nudged me back against the car and let go of my hips. He spread his arms and gripped the edge of the roof either side of me instead, effectively caging me in.

“I’m in a right state over you, Charlie,” he confessed.

Same.

The door of the gym opened and noise spilled out, along with a group of loudly talking men. I flinched and tried to shove Kevin back.

He frowned.

“Kevin,” I hissed. “People can see.”

“Yeah?”

I shoved at him again, harder, and he reluctantly stepped back. A whole inch. “Your friends will know.”

His frown deepened. “Know what?”

“That you…that we…that you’re…” I gestured between us.

He lifted his brows.

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