Page 45 of The Tip-Off
“That’s really not necessary.”
“Actually, it is. I don’t have a ride now either.”
It’s a short drive, less than five minutes this late at night, and when the car pulls up in front of my place, I give my thanks to both men.
“Give me a minute,” Zeke tells the driver and follows me up the sidewalk and to my front door.
“Do you want to come in for a drink or we could watch a movie or something?”
“I should get back, check on the guys. In the future, if you need a ride, then call me.”
“Yeah, okay.” I roll my eyes. Of all the people I might call for a ride, he’s not even in the top ten. How mortifying.
“I’m serious.”
“Oh, I know, but it’s no big deal. I’ve got it covered just fine. I can take care of myself.”
He lifts a brow.
“Goodnight, Zeke.”
* * *
The next night I’m finishing up the assigned reading for my economics class when I get a text. I smile like a fool when I see Zeke’s name.
Zeke: You home?
Me: Yep
Zeke: I’m in the parking lot.
I’m still staring down at the phone when another comes in.
Zeke: Bring your purse and lock your door, you’re coming with me.
21
Gabby
Zeke leanson the hood of his black 4-Runner, one long leg crossed over the other.
“Hey,” I call a little tentatively and a whole lot breathless. “What are we doing?”
He holds up the keys and jingles them in the air. “We’re gonna sit in my car.”
“Ooookay.” I head to the passenger side.
“Uh-uh, that’s my side.” He steps in front of me, his big frame blocking my way.
“I don’t drive.”
“Who said anything about driving?” I still don’t budge until he adds, “I made a playlist special for the occasion.”
Zeke opens the door for me, and I slide into his seat with a nervous laugh because it’s so far back I can’t even see over the steering wheel. I adjust the seat as Zeke runs around and climbs into the passenger side.
His car is clean, and his scent permeates the air. He reaches over and turns the car on and then settles back into the leather seat, hooking his phone up and finally smiling as Billy Ocean’s “Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car” starts playing. Then he reaches into the back seat and brings back a plastic bag which he sets on his lap and starts to dig through with excitement.
“Water.” He hands me a bottle. “And one for me.” He puts his water between his legs and continues to rummage. “And you get your choice of… well, everything.” He dumps the contents out into his lap. Chips, candy, gum.
