Page 4 of Dream Chaser
I re-box the hats and straighten up a bit as I wait for the inevitable.
They pull in four minutes later, mud-splattered and tight-jawed. Matthew storms out like he’s my dad and not the kid I used to play manhunt with every summer.
“You could’ve died, Iz.”
“And you could’ve just trusted me to drive in my own town,” I say, taking a slow, obnoxious sip of coffee. “But here we are.”
CJ throws his hands in the air. “One day, we’re putting a damn tracker on you.”
I toss them each a hand warmer from my coat pocket. “One day, you’ll admit I drive better than both of you and that this Jeep is magic. I win.”
“In a death race against common sense? Yeah, you crushed it,” Matthew growls and stomps off toward the brewery.
I raise my cup like a trophy. “And that, gentlemen, is how you beat a security detail.”
That’s when the back door opens and Skinner slides out, trying not to smile. I can see it twitching at the corner of his mouth, though.
The man struts toward CJ and me like he owns the damn sky and smiles at me like he could own more than that.
I don’t even flinch anymore. That’s the problem—he’s become too familiar, too loudly present in my life.
“You conducting a symphony or starting a cult?” he asks, eyeballing the mug I still have raised.
CJ takes this moment to pull my hat down over my eyes. “Knowing her, probably both.”
Skinner chuckles. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.”
“I’m building an empire.” I laugh, fixing my hat as I call to … CJ’s back. “One checklist and panic spiral at a time.”
Skinner plucks the coffee out of my hand and takes a sip without asking.
“Iwillpoison you,” I say, attempting to grab it back.
“You won’t. You like me too much.”
I roll my eyes. “You confusetoleratewithfond of. It’s cute.” But my heart skips. Itskips, and that’s new.
We end up walking side by side to the brewery door, and when we reach it, he steps forward to open the door. “After you.”
“I’m capable of … oof,” I stagger back after slamming into him because he moved to block my attempt at getting to it first.
“Goddamn,” he freaking says, groans, whatever … before waving his hand before me. “Ladies first.”
The urge to smack him in the back of the head because I swear he was looking at my chest when he said ladies is strong, but not stronger than the will to mindfully drive that demon out of my head.
Demon? Yes, demon. He might as well have horns growing out of his thick skull after every disgusting thing he’s done to my body … in my dreams, of course.
I stand unmoving, firm and tall, as I cross my arms and look up at him. “Go ahead, then.”
“What?” He chuckles.
“Wasn’t it just you less than two hours ago asking me for a crop top?”
His eyes twinkle, and he smiles. “How many times in the past two hours have you pictured me in it?”
“Asshat,” I grumble as I storm past him.
“More of a boob man myself.” He snickers from behind me.
