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That Crazy Kind: of love

Page 3

by Snow, Jenika


  “So, do you want to exchange numbers?” she finally asked. “I feel like we really connected the last ten minutes of you driving me to my house, and of course, I let you look under the hood of my car so you could diagnosis the problem.” She was holding in her laugh.

  God, she was gorgeous, witty, and had a sense of humor.

  “I mean, that would be the logical next step.” I grinned, and it felt good. It was something I hadn’t really been doing a lot of lately, not since my mom got diagnosed, not with all the trouble I got into over the last few years, and especially not with having to start a new school my senior year. But I found that with Harlow, she made it really easy, and I liked being around her.

  I liked the way she made me feel.

  And the craziest fucking part was I felt all of this in the span of a fucking car ride. That had to mean something, right? Or hell, maybe I was just losing my fucking mind.

  She pulled out her cell and I did the same. She took mine out of my hand, her fingers brushing against my skin. That shouldn’t have affected me the way it did, but this electricity slammed into me. I knew if I didn’t start thinking about something else, my cock would start to harden and be clearly visible through my jeans.

  Baseball.

  Grandmas baking cookies.

  Working on a fucking engine.

  I watched as she entered her phone number into my phone then handed me back mine and then hers for me to do the same. After I put my phone number into her contacts and gave her back her cell, we just sat there and stared at each other for a second.

  She had the prettiest blue eyes I’d ever seen, clear and bright, almost the same color as the denim we both wore. And her hair was this mass of long, thick auburn waves. I’ve never quite seen a shade like it before, and I wondered if it was natural golden highlights I saw in it.

  “It was nice finally officially meeting you, Aiden.”

  I nodded, wanting to say the same thing, but she was getting out of the car before the words came out. I didn’t move out of the driveway as I watched her walk up to the front door, unlock it, and step inside. She looked back at me and waved, that smile on her face. It was only when she closed the door that I told myself to get the fuck out of there, because Harlow was the last thing I needed to think about.

  Chapter Five

  Aiden

  I found myself heading back home, taking the long way, because the truth was, I liked thinking about Harlow.

  I turned the radio on to try to drown out my thoughts. She was the last thing I needed to think about. I had other things to focus on aside from Harlow. But despite telling myself that over and over again, I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

  She consumed my thoughts the entire way home, and it wasn’t until I pulled into the gravel driveway of the little two-bedroom, rundown house my mom and I were currently renting that I realized Harlow twisted me all up.

  I cut the engine and just sat there, thinking about what this meant, why I felt this way for a girl I didn’t know, that I’d just met. This girl had already gotten under my skin in such a short timeframe.

  I climbed out of the car, leaving my books in the backseat. I had to go to work in a couple hours and during my breaks would try to get some assignments done. It was the only time I really had to do homework, that or stay up fucking late to finish them.

  I opened the front door, and the smell of disinfectant and artificial lemon slammed into my nose. This was the smell I was always greeted with when I came home.

  The house was old, with a retro sixties theme going on. The kitchen flooring was this off-yellow linoleum with little daisies in the center of each faux tile. The counters were Formica, chipped in several places, with gold veining throughout it. The counters might’ve been white at one point, but now they just looked dingy and faded, with a few high traffic areas worn down. Despite the counters being clean, they looked perpetually dirty from age and wear.

  The appliances were about twenty-five years outdated, the fridge occasionally making a rattling noise when the compressor kicked on.

  And although the house always smelled of disinfectant, its cleanliness was something I made sure of. I needed to make sure everything was clean for my mom; with her compromised immune system from the cancer treatments, I didn’t want to risk her getting sick.

  “Mom?” I called out and heard her rustling around in her room. I made my way down the hallway, the carpet not the kind you’d walk on without at least socks on. The brown shag hadn’t been replaced since the house was built, and who the fuck knew what was living in it. No amount of steam cleaning could get something like this fully disinfected.

  I found my mom rummaging through her closet. The colorful headscarf she wore was hot pink today. It had little white polka dots on it. Although she was officially done with her treatments and her hair was starting to come back in, she still preferred to wear it for her own comfort.

  “What are you doing?”

  She started tossing out clothing but looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. I was glad to see each day she was looking and feeling better.

  “Oh hey, sweetheart,” she said in a soft voice and went back to doing whatever she was doing in the closet. “I’m getting rid of a bunch of crap I haven’t worn in years. I figure somebody else can get use out of them.”

  “Do you think you really need to do that right now?” I knew better than to even ask that question, because she would do whatever she wanted. In the end, she was headstrong, very independent, and did what she wanted to.

  She stopped and looked over her shoulder again at me, her lips pursed. She was telling me without actually saying anything that I needed to mind my business.

  I held my hands up in surrender and felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at it, seeing Harlow’s name pop up from an incoming text. Instantly, my body reacted. My heart started beating a little bit harder and faster, and I felt my palms start to get a sweaty. I was nervous, and all over a text.

  I felt my mother staring at me and glanced up at her quickly, seeing in her expression that she knew something was up.

  “Making new friends?”

  I cleared my throat and shook my head but then nodded and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just a girl from school. She was having car trouble today, and I gave her a ride home.” I swore if my mother’s face could’ve lit up any more, the room would’ve been practically glowing.

  “A girl?” Her grin was wide. “Is she nice?” She fully faced me and sat on the floor, I guess expecting there to be some long, intricate story regarding Harlow and me.

  The truth was, there wasn’t some detailed story about us. Yes, I felt an intense kind of pull toward her, this inexplicable, confusing desire that made no sense because we hardly knew each other, but a story on how it all came to be? I had nothing to tell my mom.

  Instead of saying all that, or hell, saying anything, I shrugged. I hadn’t read what Harlow texted me yet, and I didn’t want to while my mother was sitting there looking at me, this little smile on her face as if she thought I just met the woman I’d spend the rest my life with.

  “Do you need any help?” I asked, changing the subject.

  My mother’s expression told me she wanted to ask more questions, but I got my stubbornness from her, so after a second, she exhaled and looked back at her closet.

  “No, I’m good. Go eat and rest before work.” When she looked back at me, I could see on her face she wanted to say more, not about the texts or girls, but about life stuff in general.

  She hated that I worked. She didn’t want me to have to be the one to provide for her. I lost count of how many times she’d said this. But she’d worked her ass off for so long so we had a roof over our heads, food in our stomachs, and clothes on our backs. I might not have had a lot of superficially things while growing up, but the one thing she always made sure I had an abundance of was the knowledge of how much she loved me.

  So when she got sick, there was no hesitat
ion in me stepping up to be the one to take care of her. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I headed into the kitchen and grabbed some items to make a sandwich. My phone felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket, the thought of that text from Harlow heavy on my mind. Now that I was alone, I pulled the phone out and opened up the messages.

  Harlow: Thx again for the ride. I really appreciate it. Maybe I can return the favor soon. :)

  Her text was innocent enough, but hell, it made me pretty fucking happy, like I’d just been told the best news. And then there was the fact that she’d ended it with returning the favor. Of course, my mind went right in the fucking gutter as I thought of all the ways she could repay that favor.

  Her body pressed against mine.

  My lips on hers.

  The sound of her breathing hard because of what we were doing.

  I shook my head to clear it, but it did no good. I didn’t need the complication of a girl right now. I had to focus on school and work, making sure the bills were paid and I stayed out of trouble.

  I opened up the messages again and typed out a quick reply. It was friendly enough but wasn’t open ended that anything could be misinterpreted.

  And I didn’t like that. I didn’t like how it made me feel as I shoved my phone back in my pocket and tried to push Harlow out of my head.

  But shit, it was hard and impossible. And the longer I tried not to think of her, the more it had the opposite effect.

  Her alabaster skin.

  The tumble of her auburn waves around her shoulders.

  Her big blue eyes.

  Fuck.

  My cock was hard, digging against my zipper. This was bullshit, the fact that I couldn’t even keep my arousal down. I don’t know why Harlow got under my skin so badly, but it had been immediate. I’d been interested, curious about her from the start, but after actually speaking to her, seeing her personality come out... yeah, that curiosity turned to immediate need.

  Possessive, hard, sexual need.

  I cleared my throat and braced my hands on the counter, focusing on the items I pulled out of the fridge, hoping for a distraction. Of course, nothing helped.

  It was like Harlow was a drug... my own specialty drug, and there was no chance of me ever breaking that addiction.

  But I had to, because I didn’t need a complication in my life that was of the female variety.

  Chapter Six

  Harlow

  “You didn’t have to come, sweetheart.”

  I glanced at my father. We were in his car and heading toward the mechanic shop in town. They’d towed my Civic from school to their shop to get fixed. Of course, the part may not be in stock, which meant until they figured out when it would come in and then factored in labor time, I’d be riding that big, old yellow school bus. Not the end of the world, but what senior wanted to give up her mode of transportation to ride in a crammed bus with people screaming in your ear?

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind coming,” I replied and looked out the passenger side window. We were nearing Mickey’s Auto, the main mechanic shop in town. My dad turned on the stereo, his love of the oldies station something I teased him about. As a song from the ‘50s came on and I heard him starting to sing, I focused on the scenery passing us by.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Aiden and our short interaction in his car earlier today. I contemplated what it all might mean. I’d never been so curious about another person before, never been so interested. But with Aiden, I felt like there was more to his story, this deeper side of him. He’d obviously been to more than one high school, seeing as he was a senior and a new transplant at Silver Creek. But I wanted to know the why of it all, not because I was nosy, but because I wanted to understand more about him. And I had a feeling he could use a friend. I assumed he preferred being a loner, but everyone liked having someone they could talk to, didn’t they?

  Eventually, the ride to the mechanic shop came to an end, and we pulled into Mickey’s parking lot. There were a few cars off to the side that looked like they hadn’t started in probably decades. The actual body shop was comprised of the main office and one massive garage with two bay doors.

  My dad pulled into one of the spots in the parking lot and cut the engine. I focused on the office part of Mickey’s, but I heard Dad rustling around before he opened the driver side door.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, and I glanced over at him and nodded.

  I honestly didn’t know why I wanted to come with him. It wasn’t like I knew anything about cars or would be much help in this instance, but I guess I just assumed staying at home would only have me thinking about Aiden and texting him more. That was the last thing I needed to do. I certainly didn’t want to make an ass out of myself. But the car ride hadn’t dimmed my thoughts of him in the slightest.

  I pulled out my phone and opened up the messages, looking down at the text he’d sent me hours ago in reply to mine.

  Aiden: Glad I was able to help.

  I’d regretted texting him as soon as I’d hit Send. I didn’t want to seem overly eager, but his response to me was lackluster at best.

  I rested my head back on the seat and closed my eyes for a minute, the heavy weight of my phone on my lap seeming even more pronounced. I felt like an idiot. Why did I have to text him so soon after he dropped me off? I seemed desperate, clingy. Why had I offered to repay the favor like I was some kind of thirsty bitch? God, he probably thought I was weird.

  I opened my eyes and looked around. I didn’t want to just sit in the car, not when I just kept repaying how stupid I probably seemed to Aiden. I got out and shut the door, heading toward the main office. I could see my dad in front of the counter, talking with one of the mechanics.

  But before I got to the door, the deep rumble of a car had an immediate, instantaneous reaction in me. My heart started racing, and tingles moved throughout my whole body. I recognized that sound, and I found myself stopping in the middle of the parking lot and looking over my shoulder. I watched as Aiden’s Pontiac Firebird pulled into a parking spot before he cut the engine. I could hear the low sound of music coming from the car before all went silent and he climbed out.

  I should have moved, hid from him so this didn’t become even more awkward. But I found myself rooted to the spot. He had his focus on the ground, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans as he headed toward the mechanic shop.

  His pants were worn and stained, presumably from grease. The white shirt he wore was in the same condition. Did he work here?

  He hadn’t seen me yet, although he was coming right toward me.

  My heart was thundering, my palms sweating.

  Move. He hasn’t seen you yet. You can still race back to the car and lock yourself in there.

  And I was just about to do that when he lifted his head and our gazes locked.

  I saw his step falter for a split second, saw the surprise on his face, before he righted himself and cleared his expression.

  I smiled one of those tight-lipped, awkward ones and lifted my hand in an equally weird manner as I waved.

  Oh my God. I was making this worse as I probably looked like a spastic freak with the grin I sported and how I waved my hand a little too quickly.

  “Hey,” I said and was pretty proud of myself for sounding calm and not at all like a spaz.

  “Hi.” His voice was tight, and I felt myself deflate.

  “My car’s here. I came with my dad to see about getting it fixed.” I twisted my hands together. Why was I so nervous?

  Oh… because I brought up repaying the favor and he totally ignored that part, because he’s obviously not interested in furthering a friendly relationship with me.

  “That’s why I’m here. I’m not like… following you or anything. I didn’t even know you work here.” I looked at his clothes. “Do you work here? God, sorry if you don’t and I’m just assuming.” I was a rambling mess and felt my face heat in embarrassment.

  I’m not follo
wing you?

  Do you work here?

  Dammit, I was making a total idiot out of myself. Instead of saying anything else—because Aiden just stood there staring at me, probably thinking I was certifiable, gauging by the confused look on his face—I excused myself and started making my way toward my dad’s car.

  “Harlow?” he called, and I stopped and looked over my shoulder. He had a small smile on his face, lifted his hand to run it over the back of his head, and took a step toward me.

  I faced him fully, my heart in my throat, willing my face to not be as red as it felt. I licked my lips, my mouth feeling dry, forcing myself not to say anything else, not to put my foot in my mouth.

  “I do work here,” he finally said, flashing me a straight, white-toothed grin. “I’ll probably be the one working on your car. Small world, huh?”

  I smiled in returned and nodded, unsure what to say, unsure if I should say anything at all. “Thank you again,” I said and just shook my head slowly, wondering how many times in a day I could tell him that. I lifted my hand, waved, and said, “See you later.” And then I turned around and started heading back toward the car, my jaw clenched and my hands curled tightly at my sides.

  Please don’t trip. Please don’t fall flat on your face and make this even worse.

  I could feel him watching me walk away and glanced over my shoulder to see him still looking at me a second before he caught himself and lifted his hand in a wave. He made his way inside, and I still stood there as he disappeared behind the glass door, wondering how any of this would play out.

  The truth was, because of Aiden’s lack of interest, he just made my curiosity in him grow tenfold.

  Chapter Seven

  Aiden

 

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