“I’m not.” Ethan crosses his arms and targets a glare at me. “I just know why you’re late because it’s always the same reason.”
“Fuck you, Gregory,” I say, marching toward him.
Micha grabs my hand and pulls me back. “Easy, feisty girl. No fights until after the race.”
“Shut the fuck up, Ella,” Ethan retorts, and Micha scowls at him.
“You’re an ass,” I snap at Ethan.
“And you’re a bitch,” Ethan bites back.
I step forward again with my fists balled at my side, but Micha draws me back by the shoulders
“Okay, you two”—he raises his voice over the bustle of the crowd—“chill the fuck out. I need to focus on racing, not on keeping you two away from each other.”
Ethan and I shoot one last death glare at each other but keep our traps shut. Neither of us wants to distract Micha. Drag racing is intense, and if he’s frazzled or not in the right place, he could end up crashing into a tree or flipping the car over.
“Thank you,” Micha says to both of us before he steers me toward the front of the crowd with his chest pressed against my back.
While I push people out of my way, making a path for us, a few girls scowl at me, but then they notice I’m with Micha and bat their eyelashes at him. When we passed Ditzy, her eyes light up.
“Hey, Micha.” She shoots me a dirty look then waves her hand in the air, pressing her boobs against everyone as she makes her way up to us.
I roll my eyes at her and look up at Micha, who dazzles me with a charming grin.
“What?” he says innocently. “Is something bothering you, pretty girl?”
“No.” I know I should stop there, or I’m going to end up sounding jealous, but like usual, my mouth takes on a life of its own. “It’s just that I don’t get it. How can you sleep with someone like her?” I point over my shoulder at Ditzy, who’s gotten distracted by a guy with a ponytail.
“Who said I slept with her?” he questions, tapping his chin like he’s actually forgotten.
I slap his arm, and he laughs. “You did, last weekend at your party.”
He shakes his head, causing strands of his blond hair to fall into his eyes. The moonlight and the headlights highlight his aqua eyes, making them look hauntingly beautiful. If I could have a day where I could draw whatever the hell I wanted to, I would spend hours drawing his eyes.
“I never said I slept with her. You just implied it the next morning when I snuck into your room, and you told me you didn’t want me in your bed when I still smelled like skank.”
I frown as I remember. “But you never denied that you did.”
He shrugs. “I never said it was true, either.”
Don’t ask it. “Is it true?” Damn mouth.
The corners of his mouth threaten to turn upward. “What would you do if I said yes?”
“Nothing.” Deep down, though, I know it would annoy the hell out of me, even when I’m drunk. Maybe even more so in my intoxicated state.
He hesitates, his eyes fastened on me, and the intensity dripping from him is unnerving. “Well, I didn’t. In fact, I didn’t even kiss her.”
I eyeball him over, trying to tell if he’s lying. He rarely lies to me, though, and never about the girls he hooks up with. The fact that he hasn’t slept with Ditzy makes me stupidly feel better.
“You flirted with her, though,” I point out, though it’s a moot point. Flirting doesn’t matter to Micha. He flirts with everyone, even the sixty-year-old check out lady at the grocery store who smells like cat food.
“So what?” He crooks an eyebrow at me. “I’ve already told you time and time again that I’m just passing time until you finally come around. Sometimes, I get bored and need to flirt.”
I fight back a smile. I shouldn’t be glad about this.
Stop it. STOP.
My smile’s breaking through.
“Don’t smile, pretty girl,” he teases as we reach the front of the crowd. “It’ll ruin your I don’t give a shit facade.”
“Hey, you promised not to call me that tonight,” I remind him in a lame attempt to sidetrack the conversation.
“I’m not forgetting your jealousy that easy,” he retorts, his lips tugging into a sexy half-grin.
I chew on my thumbnail as I take in the cars parked around us, refusing to focus on him. There’s Danny’s 1971 Dodge Challenger, Mikey’s 1968 Camaro, and Benny’s 1970 GTO, which I’m secretly in love with, though I’ll never admit it to Micha, because it’ll hurt his feelings.
“So, tell me this.” Micha steps up beside me and sketches circles on my upper arm as he stares at the line of cars across from us. “Why does the idea of me sleeping with her bother you so much?”
“Because she’s not good enough for you,” I say truthfully with a shrug. Then I casually reach over and steal the bottle of vodka from his pocket.
He gives me a suspicious sidelong glance. “Who is good enough for me? You?” He’s joking, but it triggers a hidden nerve. I think about how I’m about to bail on him and our plans in a month, just leave him in this dump of a town.
It feels like invisible fingers have wrapped around my throat. “No, Micha, not me.” I slip out from under his arm. “I’m in no way good enough for you.” I back through the crowd, my heart throbbing in my chest. “I’ll be right back.” I reel around and run back to the car.
After I hop into the backseat, I unscrew the cap from the bottle and take a few sips before resting back. One day, and hopefully soon, Micha is going to realize just how amazing he is and start looking for girls who have substance instead of girls like Ditzy. Then these little moments in this town—with me and everyone else—will just be moments that he’ll eventually forget about.
I’ll become a fading memory along with everything I did. Even when I break my promise to him.
Chapter 6
Micha
I said the wrong damn thing. I knew I did as soon as I said it, but I get so sick of her thinking that I’m still sleeping around with everyone, because I’m not. I can’t anymore, not when I feel the way I do about her.
I can’t think of a way to recover from my mess up, and she ends up running off somewhere. I don’t chase her down since she’ll keep running from me if I do. If I give her a few minutes to clear her head, she’ll more than likely come back and pretend nothing happened.