Page 20 of Jump-Start
“That’s not true. Here, I can lie easily,” he starts and faces me, ready to feed me some bullshit. “I like you a lot, Starling.” His voice is even and normal. He doesn’t blink.
“Fine, you’re a great liar. Happy now?” I ask, but he merely shrugs.
“Around you? Never,” he says as he turns back to his pan. “Finish laying the table and quit looking at my back,” he says, forcing heat straight back into my face because I was checking out the muscles clinging to the fabric of his shirt.
“You’re unbearable. I’m going to go home,” I say, and he lets out a small snort before carrying the hot pan toward the table where we’ll be eating.
“First, you eat. Then I’ll take you home where you can keep on hating me,” he suggests, and when my stomach growls, I decide that’s the better option. I’m starving.
Not to mention, there is a gross part of me that wants to remain in his presence for a little longer. I should go see a doctor and have him cut it out.
CHAPTERELEVEN
leonard
“You seem distracted,” Quinn says, her blue eyes scanning my face as I get ready for Qualifying. This hour-long session determines the spots all of the drivers will start in for the race tomorrow.
“I’m not,” I lie, but I’ve been in my head all weekend.
Chiara and I hadn’t seen each other in almost a week, except when I dropped Benz at her place two days ago. She barely spoke three words to me because things have been awkward between us from the moment I drove her back to her place after dinner. She’s still pissed at me for costing her that job atSunrise, which I completely understand. As much as I would like to claim she’s merely being stubborn for not seeing this as a great thing for her physical and mental health, it should have been her decision. I shouldn’t have been the reason why, and this disgusting feeling of guilt has been resting on my chest since. It’s distracting me from my job, which has never happened to me.
“If there is something you’d like to talk about, you know I’m always here to listen, kiddo,” Quinn says, her dark hair bouncing around her as she gathers everything I’m going to need for the Qualifying session.
“I fucked up something last week and it’s weighing heavy on my mind,” I explain because there isn’t a single secret in the world I’d keep from Quinn. She’s my best friend, always has been.
“Is this about Chiara losing her job because you threatened the boss’s son?” she asks, and I do a double take.
“How the fuck do you know about that?”
She merely grins at my question for a moment, building tension by not telling me even though I can sense her wanting to show off how she got that information. I’m not a patient person, except when it comes to Chiara. I have to be patient with that little demon. When she pressed herself against me in the bedroom a week ago, it took every ounce of patience not to give in to my body’s wishes. It would have been a horrible idea. Fucking Chiara, as good as I know it would be, would be wrong on many levels. I have to keep reminding myself of that for some reason. Maybe because it would relieve stress for both of us, and knowing she was probably dripping for me doesn’t ease my horniness either. God, that fucking woman is messing with my head, and I don’t even like her. Not even a little. She’s infuriating and annoying and gorgeous and—
Fuck me.
“Jack told Rena, who told me during our monthly coffee date. You didn’t know I was close with your mom?” Quinn says, pulling me back to reality and away from Chiara. Well, somewhat.
“I did not know you were close with Mum. Why didn’t either of you tell me?” I ask, taking my balaclava out of her hand. Quinn shrugs, waiting for me to pull the fabric over my head before continuing our conversation.
“Never came up. Anyway, since when do you care about doing stupid things around Chiara? I thought that’s how you two worked,” she says, but I pull my balaclava off again since I shoved it on the wrong way around. Jesus, I’m not present today.
“It is, but this time, I fucked up badly. Chiara is going through enough shit at the moment with Graham moving to New York and that creep of a roommate her Mamma lives with has been harassing her. I don't need to mess things up further. I’ve been trying to talk to her about getting a new job, one with better pay, but she’s refusing to accept my help. She’s so bloody stubborn, it drives me mad,” I say, but my best friend merely smiles at me like she knows something I don’t. “What? What’s that face for?” I ask, adjusting my black racing suit and fireproof.
“Nothing,” she lies, but I have no patience to drag the information out of her. “Isn’t there anything that can be done about that roommate?” Quinn’s soft features turn abnormally serious at the question.
“I’ve tried to get her to tell me more, but she refuses. Like I said, she’s stubborn,” I repeat, fastening the clasps on my shoes.
“Hmmm, what about getting her a job to work for you?” she goes on, and I let out an unamused snort.
“Over her dead body,” I reply because those words are the exact ones Chiara would throw at that suggestion.
I’ve been trying to find something she’d find acceptable as a job for me, but I haven’t figured out anything she’d agree to. At least she’s letting me pay her now for taking care of Benz for the time I’m gone. It was a battle to get her to take my money, but, eventually, she caved when I said I really didn’t want to pay her and only did it because I didn’t want to owe her anything. It was utter rubbish, but she seemed to take it as a valid reason and stopped fighting me on it. Her face after was so cute, her pouty lips frowning like—
Wait, did I just think she was cute? No! God, no, Leonard, get a fucking grip.
“You have to go. Let’s continue this conversation later,” Quinn says, and I give her one tight nod because my head is swimming with panic at the thought I just had.
Get out, get out, get out.
“Race hard, win harder,” Quinn and I say in unison before I give her shoulder a quick squeeze.
