Page 27 of Die for You
“No. You learn to drive something like this, then driving something smaller will be no problem.” Somehow, I can never argue with Damien’s logic, even if him being right all the time pisses me off to no end.
Finn opens the driver’s side door for me and holds out his hand to help me in. I don’t reach for him, even if a small, tiny, ridiculously minuscule part of me longs to.
“I can get in a car by myself,” I grumble. Damien slides into the passenger seat as Finn shuts the door behind me and climbs in back with Knox.
“Doesn’t matter. You don’t open doors with us,” Damien says.
Gritting my teeth, I grip the steering wheel and refuse to look at any of them. “I thought you wanted me to do shit for myself.”
“When youhaveto,” Knox cuts in. “When we’re here, you don’t open doors or pay for food or even take off your own damn shoes.”
“You’re all ridiculous.” I roll my eyes, even as their words warm every inch of me.
Princess treatment. Back when I still had social media, I’d scroll past video after video of men zipping up a woman’s dress or slipping off her heels or opening her car door and assumed it was all for show. All for views, nothing genuine or real about it.
But maybe men like that really do exist.
Unless this is all just an act the Devils are putting on. A show to get me to swoon and spread my legs. Then, once they get what they want, they’ll disappear, bored.
I’m not oblivious. I’m well aware of the Devils’ reputation. Sharing girls for a night or two, discarding them once they’re bored. And their attention spans don’t seem to last long.
I wouldn’t be able to stomach that rejection after dealing with so much of it my whole life. In foster care, in school, with Jeremiah. A girl can only take so much of it before she stops giving anyone a chance to reject her ever again.
Damien reaches between my legs, the musky scent of his shampoo filling my nose with his hair inches from my face.
The sight of his arm between my parted knees makes my stomach do cartwheels.
“What the hell are you doing?” I squeal.
For once, he stays silent like Finn, shoving my seat forward so I can actually reach the damn pedals.
When he settles back in his seat with a smirk, my heart is still pounding. No one should have this kind of effect on me just by being in close proximity, let alone these three.
But the air is buzzing with tension. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to concentrate on driving with the Devils watching my every move.
“First step: adjust your mirrors,” Knox instructs.
Begrudgingly, I follow their orders as they walk me through each step of adjusting my mirrors properly, locating the turn signal and windshield wipers, shifting from Park to Drive, and keeping my foot on the brake until I’m ready to move. With all this new information thrown at me at once, I’d expect to be overwhelmed, but there’s something calming about their soothing voices talking me through every movement.
Good news: Dumping your asshole boyfriend means you can fuck whoever you want. Three of them at the same time, even.
Maybe they would talk me through that too.
I shake the thought away. Concentrating on driving will be impossible if I’m distracted by thoughts of what the Devils would do to me in the bedroom.
Hell, right here in this car.
Stop it.
“Faster.” Finn’s low, gentle command roots me back in reality.
I put a little more pressure on the gas, hands squeezing the steering wheel in a death grip, even though we’re in an empty parking lot.
“You gotta learn how to relax,” Knox soothes. “Loosen up your shoulders.”
I haven’t had a single driving instructor my whole life, and now I have three. “I’m hurdling around in five tons of metal. There is no relaxing.”
Damien rolls his eyes. “You’re nothurdlingin anything. I just watched a worm pass us.”
