Page 4 of Hell Bent
“Fine,” he said, and punched it in.
The driver, a middle-aged woman, said, “Sorry, but I don’t get paid enough to wait, and I already did it once. I get paid to drive.”
Wolf Guy said, “OK, giving you a thirty-buck tip right now. That enough for you to wait?”
“That’s sounding better,” she said. “Depends how long it is, though.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “Five or ten minutes for us to pick up some ice packs and an elastic bandage, then you drive three of us home. Three different locations. Lots of nice pricey driving. I’m last, which gives you plenty of time to decide you need a bigger tip.”
“Two locations,” I said. “My car’s at Brian’s.”
“Uh …” Sabrina said. “Maybe I’ll go home instead.”
“Good thinking,” Wolf Guy said. “He doesn’t seem like the nurturing type.”
“Most men aren’t the nurturing type,” I said.
“Well, yeah,” he said, “if you’re judging by those two.”
“Hey,” I said, then stopped.
“You can’t come up with a retort, huh?” he said. “Probably a first for you, but then, I wouldn’t be able to, either, not after that.” He had his arm over the back of the seat and was turned so he could talk to me. It was a nice arm, I couldn’t help but notice. Nice and broad. Having a thing for forearms is weird, you’re thinking, but his sleeves were rolled up some, and there that forearm was. Lots of lean, defined muscle, and dark hair. Strong hands, too. His hands reminded me of my grandpa’s. And before you say anything, I mean my grandpa when he was younger. He’s dead, so obviously not now. My grandpa coulddothings.
“If you’re going to insult me,” I said, “at least tell me your name. Mine’s Alix, and this is Sabrina.”
“Sebastian,” he said. “And I think I was insulting your boyfriend, not you.”
“Fiancé,” I said, because I more or less had to. “And sure you’re insulting me, telling me I’m a bad picker.”
He grinned. Unfortunately, that made him even better-looking. More wolfish, if you know what I mean. Dark hair, olive skin, prominent nose, and all kinds of lines around his mouth and eyes when he smiled. Not old lines, but crinkly-face lines. “Well,” he said, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but …”
“Excuse me?” I said. “You justdidsay something.”
“Well, you’ve got me there,” he said. “So you’re a student. The oldest student ever.” At a quiet huff from the driver, he said, “That’s not me. That’s what the guy said who wouldn’ttake them to get ice packs. Uh …” He looked at his phone. “Tanya. Didn’t introduce myself, sorry.”
“Nah,” Tanya said. “I heard your names. I just didn’t retain. Short memory makes life easier. I’m saying that because you already tipped me.”
Sebastian smiled and said, “True,” even as Sabrina said, “He’s not really a jerk. He’s under a lot of pressure right now.”
“OK,” Sebastian said. “Tanya’s a disinterested observer. We’ll let her decide, since I already know Alix’s opinion. Hope you don’t care what he thinks of you, Alix, because you sure did tell him.”
“He’s my fiancé’s CEO,” I said, “and his friend, so I probably should care, but I don’t.”
“Got that stubborn side, have you?” he said. “OK, Tanya, we’ll put the facts before you. Drives drunk.” He ignored Sabrina saying, “He wasn’tdrunk,he was just—” and went on. “Doesn’t care enough that his date sprained her ankle to do anything about it. Talks loud enough in a restaurant that I know way too much about his business. Drives a … what? I have some guesses.”
“A Tesla Cybertruck,” I said, and a giggle escaped me. I wasn’t much of a giggler, but a Tesla Cybertruck is objectively funny. Have youseenthose things? I’d have added, “You might as well slap on a bumper sticker that says, ‘I am insecure about the size of my penis,’” but I havesomelimits.
Sebastian said, “I rest my case.”
“Because he cares about the environment,” Sabrina said.
Another huff from Tanya, and Sebastian said, “Yep. He’s that guy. Tech bro.”
“The worst,” Tanya said. “Rich guys. Richtechguys. Them, and drunk girls who puke all over the back of my car. You know what the top fee is for that? A hundred fifty bucks, when it takes me out of service for the rest of the night. If I wanted to be cleaning up after your nastiness, I’d be doinghome health care, and I’m not doing that, you notice? Because I don’t do disgusting, that’s why.”
“And,” Sebastian said, “because it would wreck your manicure.”
“You got that right,” Tanya said, and extended a hand to him.
