Abby waited until Lance got in the driver’s side. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Open my door for me.”
Lance flashed that grin at her again. He probably thought he was charming. He wasn’t wrong. “My mom taught me to always open the door for a lady. She’d whoop me if she found out I did anything else.”
“So you have to open the door for me, but staring at my bra through my wet shirt is fine? How does that work?”
“She’d probably whoop me for that, too.” The grin never left his face. He didn’t even pretend to be sorry.
Abby shook her head, trying not to grin back. “Should I save her the trouble and do the honors myself?”
Lance laughed. “I wouldn’t mind a bit if you decided to try.” He turned and winked at her. Abby snorted, crossing her arms. And immediately uncrossed them because that just trapped the sticky, wet fabric against her chest.
Lance started the car and pulled away from the curb. He’d rolled down his window while they talked and now the wind blew in, playing with the wisps of hair that had come loose from her ponytail.
“Where are we going?” She realized he’d never asked her address.
“We just need to make a quick pit stop.” Abby examined his profile as he drove, but decided not to push it. The guy was giving her a ride home, and while he acted flirtatious and cocky, she didn’t get a bad feeling about him. For some reason he made her feel comfortable and safe. It was strange, since she didn’t normally trust people she didn’t know, but she decided to just go with it for now. It wasn’t like she’d see him again after he dropped her off at home. She rolled down her window and rested her arm on the ledge, letting her hand ride the stream of air flowing past.
After a few minutes Lance pulled into the driveway of a one-story brick house. It appeared well kept up, if a little shabby around the edges, with a crack in the driveway and weeds in the yard. They were in an older neighborhood with big trees, mostly pines, but a few maples here and there.
Lance cut the engine and looked at Abby. “Do you want to come in? My roommates should be gone, so you won’t have to deal with any other random guys.”
“Uh, no. I’ll just wait in the car.” Lance examined her face, lingering on her lips for a second longer than necessary. Then he shrugged.
“Okay. Be back in a sec.” He got out of the car, and only hit two of the three steps to get to the front door.
Abby looked around the interior of the car now that she had nothing else to distract her. It was surprisingly comfortable and clean compared to the run down look of the paint job. The tan vinyl was torn in a couple places, but there wasn’t any clutter or trash lurking in the corners or on the floor.
Lance came back out a few minutes later. He had changed into a clean t-shirt, and he carried another shirt in his hand. He slid into the car and put the extra shirt on the bench seat next to him. He turned his body so he was facing Abby.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go hang out somewhere. I brought an extra shirt for you in case you said yes.”
“Where would we go?” Her tone of voice betrayed her surprise, but she was curious, too.
“Wherever. We could go get dessert somewhere or something. I’m not ready to be home for the night.”
“You could just drop me off at home and go back to the party.” Abby felt compelled to point that out.
Lance nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess. That party was kind of lame, though. I was looking for an excuse to leave when you crashed into me.”
Abby reached out and picked up the shirt. Staring at it in her lap, she fingered the soft blue fabric while she considered her answer. Did she want to go out with this guy she’d just met? Or would she rather go home? Since Megan was still at the party, she’d have the apartment to herself.
“You could just take me home and let me change into one of my own shirts and then we could go out.” She looked at his face, gauging his reaction.
Lance was still facing her, his eyes locked with hers. He smiled a little. “I could.” He drew the words out. “But then you might overthink it and tell me no. This way you can just change and we could go. Plus, there’s a 24-hour diner with great pie not far from here, and I’m hungry now. It would take too long to take you home first.”
Abby thought about it for another minute. “Can I at least change inside? I don’t make it a habit to flash guys I’ve just met.” Even though you’ve pretty much seen it all already. She stopped herself before she said the last part out loud.
Lance opened his mouth like he was about to say something, a mischievous look on his face. Then he seemed to think better of it, his expression clearing. “Sure. Come on.”
Abby followed him up the front steps, his pace less hurried than the first time. The front door opened into the living room. College guys definitely lived here. It was comfortable enough, but mostly utilitarian, with no concern for décor. A large flat screen TV dominated the wall to the right, with wires, gaming consoles, and controllers in a jumble around the small entertainment center. Battered and mismatched furniture completed the room, looking like hand me downs or thrift store finds. There were no pictures on the walls, and the curtains covering the large bay window had probably come with the house, or were hand me downs from someone’s mom.
Lance opened a door to the left of the TV. “This is my room.” He reached in and turned on the light. “You can change in here.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
The comfortable and utilitarian theme extended into the bedroom, with a queen sized bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a bookshelf crammed with books the only furniture. Discarded clothes littered the floor between the bed and the door to the bathroom.
Abby went into the small bathroom. It was surprisingly clean from what she knew of college guys’ bathrooms. No globs of toothpaste left in the sink, and only a few items on the small counter—hand soap, deodorant, shaving cream, after shave lotion, and a razor. The soap sat on the edge of the sink, the other items clustered neatly in the corner next to the wall.
Abby stripped off her tank top, dropping it on the floor. She grabbed a washcloth from a pile of mismatched towels under the sink, got a corner of it wet, and wiped up the soda that had seeped through her shirt. She slipped Lance’s t-shirt on and looked at herself in the mirror.
She snorted when she saw the Superman logo in the middle of her chest. Well, somewhat below the middle of her chest, because the shirt swallowed her. The shoulder seams came almost halfway down her upper arms, and the shirt covered her shorts.
She tried pulling the shirt tight around her torso, twisting the extra fabric behind her, and tucking it in at the small of her back. She’d seen other girls do that and look cute. On her, she thought it just looked silly. She fidgeted with the shirt some more, folding here, tucking there, trying different things to make it so she didn’t look like a toddler wearing her dad’s clothes. With a huff of annoyance, she gave up and let the shirt hang loose.
“It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone.” Abby reached up and redid her ponytail. “I’ve already dumped soda over both of us and treated the guy to a personal wet t-shirt contest. Worrying about making a good impression on the hot guy sort of went out the window already.”
With that little pep talk, Abby went back out. Lance looked up from his phone and smiled at her. He stood up from the couch. “Ready?”
“Sure.”
Lance opened the door and gestured Abby through, locking it behind him. He jogged a little to catch up to her so he could open the door to his car before she got in.
Abby gave him a confused look. What was with this guy and his insistence on opening doors? She’d agreed to get dessert with him, but it wasn’t like this was a date. He was just bored and didn’t want to be home yet. That’s what he’d said. That didn’t make this a date, right?
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int and Harmony (Songs and Sonatas Book 5)
Counterpoint and Harmony (Songs and Sonatas Book 5) Page 22
