Interim (19 page)

“Because I knew you’d understand,” she went on. “It was an awful night, and I wanted my eighteenth birthday to be everything opposite of tonight. You know? I’m just not into parties. I don’t drink. I mean, I don’t drink with those people. I mean, I don’t
like
drinking with those people—”

“I understand. It’s okay,” Jeremy said.

“I’m really nervous!” Regan whipped her head around and glanced at the street. No one coming. She let out a slow breath.

“About?” Jeremy asked.

She searched for a lie. “I . . . I had something weird happen to me on the way over here. That’s all. Stopped at a light and someone knocked on my car window. Scared the shit out of me.”

He didn’t believe her for a second, mostly because she averted her eyes as she spoke. His instinct told him it had everything to do with Brandon.

“I’m totally cool. Just gave me the jitters.”

“The jitters, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

He chuckled.

“What?” she demanded.

“Nothing.” He threw up his hands.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I’ve just never heard a teenager say ‘jitters.’ It’s cu—different.” Oh God, he almost said “cute.” What a stupid word for a guy to say.

“Jitters?” Regan asked.

“Yeah.”

They fell silent.

“I feel like a dork,” she mumbled.

“Well, then you’re in the right place,” Jeremy replied.

Regan grinned. “Can I hang out for a little while? I don’t wanna interrupt or anything. I’m just not ready to go home.”

“Let me understand this: You wanna hang out with me on your birthday?”

“You seem confused.”

“I am.”

“Is it weird I wanna hang out?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why’s that weird?”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And because it’s a big night for you. And this garage is gross. And there are better people to spend your time with.”

She thought for a moment. “I can’t think of one.”

Wave of intense heat. He wasn’t expecting it. He wasn’t expecting the sweat to break out under his arms either—like his metabolism was revving after a particularly grueling interval training session.

“Well?” she asked, waiting. “May I? And will you shut that door? I don’t like all the darkness. I feel exposed.” She shivered.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, walking over to the garage door and closing it.

She pulled herself up on the counter and cocked her head, considering him. “You’re not very nice to yourself.”

“What?”

“You act like you don’t matter. You act like I’m crazy for wanting to spend time with you.”

He scratched his flushed cheek.

“Did they beat all the self-worth out of you?”

Shocking question. How dare she ask him something like that!

“Not all,” he replied quietly. “Most, but not all.”

Only when he uttered the words aloud did he realize they were actually true. They didn’t take everything from him. If they had, he would have hung from a rope a long time ago. His mission kept him alive.

“If anything, you’re cooler than all of them,” he heard Regan say.

He smiled. “How do you figure?” Yeah, he needed an ego boost.

“Well, you can build cars. Brandon’s pretentious self can barely pump his own gas.”

“He’s too good for it, or he really doesn’t know how to work the pump?”

“Both, but I think it’s more to do with him not knowing how to work the pump.”

Jeremy searched for other tools to continue his work on the car.

“You snowboard. That’s hot. I mean cool! That’s
cool
,” Regan said, grimacing. “Brandon skis. Totally lame.”

Jeremy smirked. “Agreed.”

“You should show me sometime.”

“How to snowboard?”

“Yeah.”

He felt the immediate need to flirt. Real, in-your-face flirting, because it was dark outside, and the garage was shut up tight, and he had her all to himself.

“I don’t know, Regan. You may not like it,” he began, abandoning his project for a table in the far corner of the room. He searched until he found it, rolled up crisp and brand new.

“What do you mean? I know it’s hard,” Regan replied.

“Not that. I don’t know if you’d be comfortable going like this, and this is how the chicks do it.”

He unrolled the poster, then peeked around the left side. “You got something like this you could wear?”

Her mouth dropped open. She stared at the back of a naked brunette, long dark hair cascading all the way down to an inch above her plump, round ass. Her feet were snugly enclosed in boots strapped to a snowboard. She stood against a pure white background that accentuated her tanned nakedness.

“And what would I be wearing again?” she asked.

“Your birthday suit. Naturally.”

“I’m freezing just looking at her.”

He chuckled.

“You have these posters in your room?” she asked.

“I’m too old to hang posters in my room,” Jeremy replied, rolling up the brunette until she disappeared from sight. “But I’ve been collecting them for years. My favorite snowboard brand. Blind Boards.”

“Blind Boards?”

“Yep. They’re totally underrated, but I think they have potential to get bigger than Burton.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Regan said.

“Burton’s, like, the ultimate snowboard brand. I like their stuff, but Blind Boards takes it to a completely different level. They’re way more innovative.”

“And you like the way they advertise,” Regan pointed out.

“Hey, what can I say? Their girls are hot.”

Regan laughed. “Man, it’s gotta be the easiest thing in the world marketing to guys. Just include some tits and ass and you’ve got instant customers.”

Jeremy’s eyes bugged. Regan noticed.

“What?” she asked.

“I’ve never heard a girl say ‘tits.’ Ever.”

“Crude?”

“Coming from you?” He thought a moment then shook his head. “No. Doesn’t sound crude. But I do feel like you should have been holding a beer while you said it.”

Regan sighed. “Kinda wish I had one.”

“Thought you didn’t drink.”

“No, I qualified that statement. I don’t like drinking with
those
people.”

“Oh, I see.”

Regan watched as Jeremy headed to a fridge on the other side of the garage. He pulled out a beer and popped the top, then extended her the drink.

“I have to drive home,” she said, reaching automatically.

“I’ll drive you.”

“But you don’t have a car. Unless you got that thing running,” she said, glancing at the Camaro.

“Not yet. And I can drive your car.”

She didn’t consider that.

“But then you’d have to walk home,” she said.

“Not a big deal.”

Regan scratched her head. “You sure?”

He nodded. “Drink up.”

“So, you’re not having one?”

“No. This is your night. Drink all you like. I’ll watch after you.”

She smiled brightly. “Really?”

“Sure.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No ulterior motive?”

“Don’t even know what that is,” he said.

She snorted and mumbled, “Yeah, I bet you don’t.”

He watched the bottle reach her lips, tilt with the tiniest upward thrust of her hand. Her throat muscles contracted, and he imagined the liquid sliding down deep inside her, slinking around her belly to warm it instantly. She licked her lips and exhaled an exaggerated sigh.

“Thank. You.”

“You’re welcome.”

A comfortable silence filled the garage as Jeremy resumed work on the axle—a project that was nearly complete. The Camaro might run by January if he were lucky.

“Why that name?” Regan asked.

“Huh?”

“Blind Boards? What the hell’s a blind board?”

“Oh. Well, I read somewhere that it’s about the difference between snowboarding and other sports.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, sports are usually colorful and flashy, you know? Think about what you see when you watch a soccer match or football game. Especially if you’re right there in the stadium. How much do you think you’d miss out on if you couldn’t see color?”

Regan paused. “A lot, I suppose.”

“Exactly. But snowboarding is just you and your board and one huge, white mountain. The thrill is in the ride, not what you see.”

Regan nodded, absorbing. “That makes sense.”

She tilted her beer and drank greedily. It wasn’t until she started on the second that she realized it’d been several hours since she ate. The alcohol hit her with fantastic force, fumbling her next words.

“Do those shicks really snowboard naked?” she asked.

Jeremy glanced behind him. “You’ve had one beer, Regan.”

“I know!” she laughed.

“Do
you
think those ‘shicks’ snowboard naked?” he teased.

She screwed up her face in thought. “I’m thinking no. But then again, if I had that girl’s ass, I’d do it.”

“You’d snowboard naked.” He didn’t pose it as a question.

“Hell yeah. That’s epic.”

“Epic?”

“Look. You hang out with popular kids long enough and you start sounding like an idiot.”

Jeremy chuckled. “Well, there are no naked chicks on the slopes. Chicks in bikinis, yes. But none of them naked.”

“Oh, yeah! I’ve seen those girls! They’re crazy,” Regan said.

“You think?”

“It’s cold up there!”

“You never shed your ski jacket? I get hot when I snowboard. I take it down to a T-shirt most of the time.”

“I never do. I’m always cold. Always.”

“That’s too bad,” Jeremy said, looking her over . . . Paying extra attention to her chest . . . Imagining what she looked like in a bikini . . . Imagining what she looked like naked.

Regan smiled to herself. “Bikini snowboarding.”

“Our version of South Beach surfer babes, I guess,” Jeremy replied.

She whistled low. “It’s gotta hurt like the dickens when they fall.”

Jeremy laughed hard.

“What?” Regan cried.

“The dickens?”

“What’s wrong with that?” She couldn’t help it and burst into a fit of giggles.

“Absolutely nothing. I think it’s great,” Jeremy replied.

Screw the axle. He walked to the sink and washed his hands, then to the counter where he pulled himself up beside her. He was careful to keep their knees from touching, but she wasn’t.

“I really do try not to say weird things,” she confessed. “Brandon’s always on me for saying weird things.”

Jeremy scowled. “There’s nothing wrong with the things you say.”

“He doesn’t like my clothes,” she said. “He said I look fat in high-waisted jeans.”

Jeremy sighed.

“Do . . . do you think I look fat?” she asked softly.

“What? Are you kidding me?” He grew angry. “It’s not my place, but I think you should dump him. I mean, if he makes you feel bad about yourself.”

Regan nodded. “I know.”

He wanted to press the issue. Her “I know” wasn’t an answer. He didn’t know what that meant. Would she dump him or not?

“He used to be nice,” she said thoughtfully.

“He was never nice.”

“So, he just put on a show for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Soooo, I’m an idiot?”

“No. You probably really thought he changed. You wanna see the good in people.”

“Is that bad?”

“Maybe unrealistic.”

“You think I’m stupid?”

He exhaled slowly. Jeez. Insecure much?

“No, Regan. I don’t think anything about the way you act and think is stupid. I could never think that.”

She smiled and leaned into him. She bumped his arm with her own and asked about his progress on the car. He didn’t really want to talk about it. He wanted to keep talking about Brandon until he convinced her to dump him. But then he remembered it was her birthday, and who the hell wants to talk about Brandon on her birthday?

He listed off a few repairs he was currently working on.

“I’m distracting you. I know it. I should leave,” she said.

“You’re not distracting me at all.”

“What were you about to do?”

“Slide under the car for a while.”

“Why?”

“To work on the axle.”