Page 22 of Hearts on Ice
She widened her eyes and pushed the door open to get out. “What do you know about cars?”
“I know you have to be in there to pop the hood.” He motioned to the lever below the dash.
She reached for it, wondering if he really had any idea what he was doing. When they were together, she never once saw him try to so much as change a tire.
But he stood in front of her car, releasing the latch under the hood, and she walked around to stand beside him to look at the compacted mechanics.
“Do you even know what you’re looking at?”
“Um, sure, but I don’t see the battery.” He straightened and looked at her. “I was going to see if I could jump it. Where’s the battery? Do you know?”
She turned sideways and rested her hip on the grill. “Why do you think I would know?”
“You said it’s been acting up. I thought you might’ve looked at it.”
She shook her head, her arms folded in front of her.
“Well, you got the manual, right? In your glove box?”
“Um. I guess.”
“Colby.” He cocked his head and looked at her. “You bought a car and never looked at the manual?”
“I mean, I looked at it so I could see how the controls work, you know. Signals and cruise control.” She felt her face heat. “The radio. I never thought I would need to do anything under the hood. I thought I’d just take it to a mechanic.”
He stepped back, resting his hand on the hood over his head. “We can do that, if you want, call a tow truck.”
“I’ll see if it’s in the car.”
He followed her around to the passenger side, stood there while she sat in the seat and opened the glove box. Napkins, straws, and yes, a manual. She handed it to him, and waited as he flipped through the pages. She watched his fingers on the book, tried to imagine them working beneath the hood of her car, couldn’t.
When she looked up, he was watching her, not looking at the book.
“Did you find out where it is?” she asked.
“Not yet. Just thinking. This car suits you.”
She braced herself for an insult. “What do you mean by that?”
“Stands out. Draws attention. Cute.”
The last word gave her heart a bump.
“You don’t drive too fast in it, do you?”
“Of course I do. What’s the point of having a fun car if you don’t enjoy it?”
“I guess I should be glad you didn’t get a sports car or something.”
“Why should you be glad?” She wasn’t being flip. She truly wanted to know.
“I’d just hate to read about you careening off a mountain somewhere driving too fast.”
“Ah.” She nodded her head once. “Well. I’d hate to read the same about you.”
He laughed and nodded toward his truck. “At least it’s good to know we don’t want to read about each other drying. That’s something, isn’t it?”
“So why do you think we need a contract then? I’m not the same girl I used to be. I’ve changed.”
