Cockpit: A Second Chance Romance (23 page)

A nice throat?

Get a grip, Frannie!

He finished the measly bit of water and put the glass down. Then he turned his head, staring at me.

"So you were surprised."

"Yes."

"And offended because... he's married?"

"I thought he was but apparently he is not."

"Huh."

"What?"

"And you weren't interested?"

"Ew, no!"

"He's old?"

"Kind of."

"Ugly."

"No."

"You have a boyfriend."

I rolled my eyes.

"I wish."

I clapped my hand over my mouth. I'd gotten so comfortable I forgot I was talking to a hot guy and not Nevada or Becky, my sometimes roommate.

He laughed, not unkindly.

"You're a funny girl, Frannie."

He stood up to leave.

"Thanks for the water."

"No problem. I- uh- should I give you a check now?"

He shook his head.

"It's okay. I don't even know what's wrong with it yet. It might take a few days."

I nodded eagerly, ready for this awkward moment to be over. As soon as he left I could collapse into a puddle. And hopefully figure out exactly what was going on here.

At the front door he paused, staring at me intently.

"This guy- did he hurt you? Or do something he shouldn't have?"

I shook my head, realizing that Jace was asking for a reason.

He was asking to see if he needed to beat somebody up.

For me.

It sent a thrill through me, I can't lie.
 

"No he just... creeped me out."

He cracked his knuckles like a thug in an old time movie.

"Too bad."

He smiled then and turned away.

"Later Frannie."

I watched him walk down the hallway and take the stairs. He kept his eyes on mine as he walked down them. He had a funny little smile on his face.

There was something about it that reminded me of Nevada's fiancé Clay.

I closed the door before it hit me.

It was arrogance.

And something else.

He looked... hungry.

Chapter Five

Jace

I flexed my hands, resting them lightly on the steering wheel. It was dark out here behind the old cannery. Once this had been a bustling factory. But now it was silent, except for the sound of souped up engines.

I was using Flannery's car tonight. With his permission of course. We had an arrangement now. After the first time I'd won.

That time had been without his permission.

To say that my mother's youngest brother had been pissed would have been an understatement.

But since I'd split the pot wit him, he hadn't stayed angry for long.

Besides, he liked it when his cars won. Even if he wasn't behind the wheel.

Flannery had been born with an innate ability to pull things apart and put them back to together. Motors specifically. He'd also been born with a club foot and a degenerative neurological disease. That meant he twitched and limped.

It also meant he was shit behind the wheel.

I'd inherited a similar ability for gears and wiring. But I was also born with lighting fast reflexes and steely, unflappable control. Control over myself and control over the machine I was driving.

Add my relentless need to prove myself and you got the perfect driver.

Hot rod driver to be exact.

I sat perfectly still as I waited for the race to begin. This wasn't an official race. No rankings would be posted on a brilliantly lit score board.

But unofficially, it was the start of the racing season. And if I won, it would be put me on the map. Not to mention some nice money in my pocket.

And I almost always won.

I was distracted tonight though.

By her.

I'd spent the day working on the girl's crappy old car. Frannie. Jesus, what a woman. Funny, sweet, shy as hell. Not at all the stuck up rich bitch I'd thought she was.

Never mind that she looked like a Playboy Bunny.

On steroids.

I glanced at my phone, resting on the passenger seat. I'd texted her earlier. Ostensibly about the car, but really I just wanted to know if she was okay. If she needed anything.

Like maybe she needed me to come over and fuck her.

I snorted. Fat chance of that. This girl had standards. I was going to have to woo her a bit. That was fine with me. I was more than willing to put in the time to get into her panties.

I closed my eyes, trying to imagine what they looked like.

White. Cotton. Little pink bow at the top.

I'd bet my bike on it.

I grinned at the thought.
 

Hopefully she'd text me back and we could get the damn ball rolling. As soon as fucking possible.

Either way, I planned to tell her I wanted to see her again. In person. Soon.

Really fucking soon.

Around me the cars were starting to line up. I glanced to the left and the right. It was almost time.

My fingers tensed imperceptibly. My stomach tightened. My foot hovered closer and closer to the pedal.

The shot rang out and I was off. First out of twenty cars making the loop around the old loading yard. I could feel someone coming out on the outside and I lurched forward with an extra burst of power.

I shifted gears into the straightaway, picking up as much speed as I could. It was dangerous as fuck to take a turn at top speed. But I always did.

It was the only way to win.

I started the turn, leaning my whole body into it.

As the lights of the finish line came into view, I knew I had won.

Cheers erupted all around me as I screeched to a halt.
 

The door was opened from outside and I saw Clyde and Flannery staring at me with shit eating grins. I slid out of the car and was immediately swallowed up by a crowd of people. Girls were shrieking as they pressed up against me.

Here we go again.

Hot rod races were a beacon for girls on the prowl, even at local meet ups like this. It was kind of a pain in the ass sometimes, to tell the truth. I just smiled and nodded as I made my way to the table where I could pick up my prize money. The crowd started to dissipate as I handed my uncle his keys and half the money.

I walked over to my bike, checking my phone again.

Nothing.

God damn it.

I looked up and cursed. Out loud this time.

A girl was straddling my ride.

I didn't like anybody touching my ride, even if she was a hot girl.

And this one was definitely hot, objectively speaking. Long blond hair, thin, with big fake breasts. Her lips looked like they'd been altered too. Big and poofy.

She looked like a porn star.

I know a lot of guys liked the plastic look but I did not.

The thought of the hot little redhead sitting on my bike clouded the image of the girl in front of me.

Shannon fucking Rogers.

Yeah, I knew her. She was always hanging around. A lot of people considered Shannon the unofficial prize for winning.
 

That was her thing. She put out a lot. But she only liked winners.

She was either easy or impossible. Too bad she had a thing for me. I had no interest in someone who'd been passed around that much.

I jerked my head to the side and she pouted, sliding her long tanned legs off the bike.

"What's wrong, Jace?"

"I'm not in the mood."

She shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

I didn't even watch as she slinked away. Even though every other red blooded male in the place was staring at her with drool hanging off their chins. Instead, I yanked on my helmet and tore out of there.

I drove around aimlessly, not realizing where I was headed until I pulled up there.

Frannie's place.

Damn if I couldn't get that girl out of my head! And now I was practically stalking her. Fuck it though, I wanted to see if she was home.
 

That would give me something to fantasize about later.

I'd spent every waking moment the past few days mentally undressing her. I'd imagined her with her top off, bra on. Bra off and panties on. Slowly moving toward the main event.

Though to be honest, I doubted it would be slow when it happened. Not the first dozen times or so. I wanted her too bad.

I stared up at her window on the third floor.
 

The lights were on.

It would be so easy to ring the buzzer, walk up the stairs and pull her into my arms.

I'd kiss her senseless before carrying her down the hallway to her bedroom.
 

We wouldn't come out again for hours.

Fuck that.

We wouldn't come out for days.

I pulled out my phone. She still hadn't written back.
 

Fuck.

Not tonight I guess.

I tucked my phone away and rode out into the night.

Frannie

I woke up with tears on my pillow for the third day in a row. I had a few days off before my summer job started. I'd planned to clean the house, go for a walk, check out the beach and boardwalk that I hadn't had a chance to visit more than once since I'd started school.
 
But I'd spent most of it crying and laying in bed.

I'd just taken an accidental 3 hour nap after an unsatisfactory dinner of reheated take out food.

I must be an idiot.

Not just an idiot.
 

The biggest idiot alive.

A prize winning idiot, not unlike a hog at the county fair.

I snorted. Yeah, Frannie, you're a pig. Fat Frannie rides again. That's what the kids used to call me in school. I had slimmed down a bit as I got taller, but the name stuck.

In my head, anyway.

Visions of the smarmy look on Professor Candel's face slid around my mind. He'd thought I would be flattered... excited even. Did I seriously give that vibe out?

Was I the fat, desperate chick?

It's not like I'd never flirted a day in my life so I knew that wasn't it.

Sure, I'd had crushes. Nothing too crazy but I noticed cute boys. But I'd never done anything about it.
 

Not even close.

Not even ONCE.

I sighed, slipping my feet into my fuzzy slippers. I'd let my phone die again. I padded into the kitchen to plug it in and make a pot of tea.

Maybe a little late night TV would cheer me up.
 

It being 11 pm and all.
 

A key rattled in the lock and I turned to see Becky walk in the door. She was carrying a bag of clean laundry. It must be that time again.

Once in a while she swapped her clothes out. Her boyfriend had yet to make enough room in his closet to satisfy her clothes habit. So Becky showed up once a week to drop things off and pick up some fresh outfits.

What I considered home, she considered a closet.

"Hey Becks."

"Oh hey.
 
You're up."

I nodded. I was often in bed with a book by now. Even when I wasn't working on homework I was reading. I was a certified book-a-holic.

"Want a cup of tea?"

"I'm good, thanks."

Becky was putting her stuff away when my phone let out a series of loud beeps.

Ding.

Ding ding ding.

Whoa, I must have gotten a bunch of texts during my three day sleep-a-thon.

I picked up my phone and my mouth dropped open.

Text one was from Jace:

You okay? Checking in... your car needs a lot of work btw

Text two was from Nevada:

SCHOOL IS OVER! WHOOHOOO! Am I gonna see your face soon Frantastic?

Text three was from Jace:

Hey, let me know how you are. Car should be ready by next week. I can give you a ride if you need one before then.

Oh my god.

He could give me a ride?

HE COULD GIVE ME A RIDE???

I broke out in a sweat thinking about what that meant. Did he mean that in a dirty way? Or was he being nice?

Either way, my cheeks lit up with the thrill of it all. A boy wanted to drive me around on his motorcycle. Not just any boy either. A freaking gorgeous one.

Becky was staring at me, her arms crossed and an arched look on her face.

"Um, hello. Who is texting you so much?"

"Oh it's just Nev. And Jace."

"You met a guy?!?"

"You don't have to make it sound like it's impossible. Besides, its not like that."

"Okay, sure."

I didn't have a lot of friends at school so when Becky and I had met off a housing chat board, I had been thrilled. She was on scholarship and had the same limited resources I did.

I thought I had made a friend.

And I had, sort of.

The first few months we went grocery shopping together, and did our laundry. We even cooked dinner together most nights, both of us being the broke and frugal type.

Only that's where our similarities ended. I quickly realized that Becky was obsessed with being wealthy. She was smart and pretty and determined to catch a rich husband. She didn't even try and hide it. So when she started dating the head of one of the biggest frats on campus, that was it.

She definitely was not a 'hoes before bros' type of girl.

Not that I was a hoe.

Even though I kind of wished I was at the moment.

"Well, is he hot?"

"That would be an understatement."

"Aren't you going to text him back?"

"Uh... yeah I guess so."

What the hell was I supposed to say to him? I'd get over there some other way and pick it up the car when it was ready. I wasn't good at flirting anyway.

But I knew I should say something... he was being nice after all.

I pecked out a short text and hit send, closing my eyes.

Thanks Jace. I'm okay. I will see you next week.

Smooth Frannie.

Real smooth.

But what could I do? I wasn't about to start bantering with him.

I would take the bus to work. I didn't really have anywhere else to go.

Speaking of which, tomorrow was my first day so I needed to pick out an outfit. Something that said, I'm serious! But also said, I'm fun!