HELEN HAD HER BARE FEET ON MY DASH, sipping coffee, singing softly to the music filling my car. She had a red string tied around her ankle with a tiny bell that made a faint jingle when she moved. Not something I would have noticed normally, but we were a half hour into the drive to L.A. and Helen’s shorts stopped at the tops of her thighs. Tan legs and small, almost dainty feet filled my vision.
Because I kept looking.
Her head turned, catching me looking at her, and I didn’t care.
“What?” Her lips curved. She knew what.
“Your legs, Tiger. Nice.”
Her palm smoothed from her knee to her ankle. “They’re covered in scars, Theodore. Not nice by a stretch, but they get the job done.”
“Scars don’t detract.” Helen’s legs were undeniably sexy. Not long, but long enough. Tan with lean, taut muscles. The kind of legs a man imagined wrapped around him. Hard to look away from. Hard to think about anything else when they were on display.
“Mmm.”
Yeah, time for another topic.
“Did you see Luciana this morning?”
“Mmhmm. No time for breakfast at the T, so we grabbed a donut at the grocery store. She’s easy, so she adapted.”
I clicked my tongue. “I would’ve given you a ride. Next weekend, I’m there.”
“It’s cool, Theodore. We’ve got a system down to get the groceries back to the trailer on our boards. Better to do it that way than rely on help that won’t always be there.”
I didn’t know how to answer that. All I knew was now that I was aware Helen and her little sister rode their skateboards with groceries in their hands every week, it was going to be impossible for me to stand by and do nothing. I felt like a dick for not being there for them this morning.
“You’re probably going to tell me it’s none of my business, but I have to ask: where’s your dad and why isn’t he helping you two?”
She dropped her legs from the dash and tucked them to the side on her seat. “My dad’s in prison for dealing and assault. Probably more, but he’s been in and out of jail so many times, I mix up the charges. If he weren’t in prison, he still wouldn’t be helping. He takes, he doesn’t give. Luc’s dad died last summer. Accident, but can you call it an accident when you’re so high out of your mind, you drive your truck into a tree going full speed?”
Shocked at both her answer and the fact that she’d given me all that of her own free will, it took me a minute to formulate a response. In that time, the heavy silence only filled with an old Sublime song filtering through the speakers. Helen had closed up shop. She twisted her body toward her window, her head on the glass.
She sucked in a shaky, ragged breath.
“Sorry you asked?”
“No. Sorry you were born into that. Luciana too. She’s just a kid, and that, knowing how her dad went out, god, that must’ve been—”
“A relief,” Helena supplied.
“Relief?”
“It was a relief for her. He had custody, but if you can believe it, her living situation with him was worse than our mom. He had money, though, so he got the kid. When her dad died, I got to have her.”
Reaching out, I dug my fingers into the side of her hair, letting that silk slide along my skin. Her head tipped my way a little.
“She’s lucky to have a big sister like you, Tiger. So fucking lucky.”
I kept stroking her hair until I needed my hand on the wheel again. She stayed quiet, leaning into me, letting me soothe her, and that was enough, because with Helen, it was huge.
She sank into her seat and yawned, big and noisy.
“Tired?”
“Mmm. I worked late last night, and when I got home, my roommate had a guy over who was banging her like a jackhammer. From the fake-ass noises she was making, she enjoyed it as much as I did. She had him over last weekend too, same story. Don’t know why she wanted a repeat performance.”
That made me laugh. “Not touching the roommate thing, except to say I’ll buy you earplugs. No one should have to be an innocent bystander to bad sex.”
She snorted. “It’s no big deal. You grow up in a tiny trailer with a skanky mom, you learn to tune it out. I was just ready to crash when I got home last night but it took me a while to shut down with all the jackhammering.”
“Where do you work?”
“I told you I don’t want you peering in the windows, Theodore.”
I glanced at her. “Really? You’re not going to tell me?”
“Nope.”
“Your dad being in prison isn’t a secret, but your job is?”
“I’m not my dad.”
I nodded. “True. Glad you don’t take his shit on.”
“Let me guess what your dad does. Hmmm…real estate? No, I bet he’s in money management. Rich people like to manage other rich people’s money. Or wait, is he—?”
“President Whitlock. My father is the president of Savage U.”
Helen whistled. “Your dad’s the head bitch in charge? Damn, Theodore, I did not expect that. I guess that explains why Davis’s knees were knocking when you told him your full name on the first day of class.”
“Yeah. I don’t like my father very much, but I’m not afraid to throw his name out if I need to.” I chuckled under my breath. “I would really like to see his face if he heard you calling him head bitch in charge.”
“Let me get my diploma first, then it’s on.”
I turned, finding her ruby lips upturned, relaxed in her seat, pretty as hell and comfortable with me. Fucking finally.
“I get my diploma, I might do the honors,” I replied.
She went quiet again, humming to a White Stripes song, tapping along with the drum section on her thigh. We were only ten or fifteen minutes out from the performance site.
“Did you work things out with your girlfriend?”
Damn. I’d been feeling smug for drawing Helen out, and now we were right back to this. She hadn’t been wrong yesterday. My breakup with Abby had been complicated. Humiliating. Heartbreaking. I’d loved her for two years. Treated her right, gave her all I was able to give. Everyone thought we had a future, the real kind. She ripped that out from under me like it was nothing. Because I didn’t fall in line—the line she created well after we’d established who we were together. Because I’d loved her, it had been tempting to give in for her. But the fact that she could end us so easily, without a discussion, only an ultimatum, had given me the will to say no—the answer that broke us.
It had also happened months ago. My head was straight now.
“Not my girlfriend, Helen. I’ve told you that. I wouldn’t be touching you if I thought there was a microscopic chance for that relationship to be revived.”
“But she misses you too, and she had such a good time with you Wednesday.”
“Sounds a lot like jealousy, Tiger.”
“I’d have to want you to be jealous another girl has you.”
I shook my head. “No one has me. Abby and her parents were at my dad and stepmom’s house Wednesday for dinner. It was awkward, we barely spoke, and I sure as shit didn’t tell her I missed her.”
Out the corner of my eye, I saw her cross her arms. “I don’t care. Your messy personal life is none of my business.”
“Nothing messy about it. Our break was swift and clean.”
“Yet her parents and yours are buddy-buddy, having dinner together. Might’ve been swift, but it doesn’t sound clean.”
“Jealous, baby,” I murmured.
“I would smack you if you weren’t driving.” She shook her head. “You’re so damn smug. I do not play these kinds of games, Theodore.”
“I’m not playing any games. I’m driving you to a show an hour out of town. A show I didn’t need to go to because I could have easily hit the performance during the week. I can’t control what other people do or the texts that show up on my phone. You don’t know me well, I get that. But I’m straightforward, baby. Games are not in my wheelhouse. I think you’re gorgeous, interesting, sexy, and when you don’t have a massive wall of spikes around you, the kind of soft I could sink into. Maybe I get a kick out of you being jealous, but that’s only because it lets me know you might be interested too. That’s not a game—that’s me getting a read on you. Do you get me?”
A breath whooshed out of her. “You can’t just say shit like that. No one says shit like that.”
“Like what?”
Her hands flailed in the air in front of her. “All that you just said. People don’t just lay it on the line. It’s not—”
“I don’t know what other people do. I don’t really care.”
I could feel her aiming eye daggers at me. “I hope you don’t expect anything like that from me.”
I grinned. “Nope. I don’t have any expectations.”
“Good. Because people don’t talk like that,” she muttered.
“It’s obvious you’ve never been treated the way you deserve.”
“Or is it possible I’ve been treated exactly how I deserve and you are grossly overestimating who I am?”
My hands tightened on the wheel. “Don’t say shit like that about yourself.”
She inhaled sharply, then reached out and traced her fingertip over my tight knuckles. “Okay. I won’t. But don’t break your steering wheel. I need a good grade in this class. In order to get that, I have to attend this performance. If you break your car, I’ll have to hitchhike and—”
Grabbing her hand, I brought it to my mouth and bit down on her knuckles. “Stop talking.” I rubbed my lips along the smooth skin on the top of her hand.
“’Kay. But do you think I can have my hand back?”
“Nope.”
“’Kay.”
Helen wanted blueberries. She’d never say it, but I saw her eyeing people around us eating them. I rose from the blanket I’d brought for us to share, and she looked up at me.
“Stay here.”
She rolled her eyes and gestured to the stage. “Where would I go?”
I picked up a piece of her hair, rubbing it between my fingers. “Stay, Tiger.”
There was a stand at the opening of the park selling blueberries in small baskets. The price was astronomical, but I didn’t blink. I wanted to see her reaction when I gave them to her.
Helen wasn’t alone when I got back. Seated beside her on his own blanket was the big motherfucker from class who’d taken it upon himself to be her bodyguard. Lachlan. And he was holding out his own basket of blueberries, which Helen helped herself to.
I thought he was cool, but I was reconsidering.
I sat down beside her. She turned, grinning. “Look who’s here.”
Lachlan jerked his chin at me. I stared at him, unblinking. He chuckled as he turned away.
I shoved the blueberries at Helen. “Now you have all the berries in the world.”
Something small and cold hit my forehead. I picked it up, my eyes flicking to Helen’s. Her red lips were spread wide. She’d thrown a blueberry at me.
“Now you have one. Let me know when you want another one.”
I threw it back at her. “Brat.”
She leaned in, bringing her lips close to my ear. “Jealous, baby.”
“What’s he doing here?”
Her face turned up to mine. “He works during the week too. I bet he’s not the only classmate of ours here.”
“He’s the only one sitting beside you.”
Her hand fell on my upper thigh and squeezed. “You’re sitting beside me, aren’t you?”
I stared at her, thinking about what she’d do if I pushed her on her back and shoved my hand down her tiny shorts. Her fingers touched my lips.
“Don’t kiss me, dude.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“You were.”
I took a blueberry from her basket and slipped it between her lips. She smiled, giving me a taste of her softness.
“Thanks for the berries. I never buy them because they’re way too expensive for my blood.” She put another one in her mouth. “Thank you.” Soft, low, quiet, just for me.
“You’re welcome.”
The show started, and from the parts I paid attention to, it was good. Helen sat up, cross-legged, spine straight, rapt. I might’ve watched her more than the people on stage. And kept my eye on Lachlan, who was more laid back and relaxed on his blanket than a motherfucker that size had any room to be.
Intermission came, and Helen stretched out on her back. “Okay, I like this. Is this how rich people live? Shakespeare in the park with berries?”
“The tickets were ten dollars each, Tiger.”
Her lids lowered. “Some of us don’t have ten dollars to spare. Or the time to watch a play in a park.”
Lachlan shifted, so he was leaning back on his hands. “Had to take the day off work for this.”
Helen shook her finger at him. “See? Luckily, I work nights, otherwise I would have been screwed.”
“Where do you work?” I asked Lachlan.
“Maintenance and mechanics on campus. I take care of the vehicles and machinery,” he answered.
I peered down at Helen. “See how easy that was? I asked where he worked, he told me.”
Lachlan cocked his head, eyes on Helen. “Where do you work, girl?”
She tucked her hands behind her head, drawing her shirt up to just below her tits. Her stomach was as sexy as her legs, defined muscles and a tiny, round belly button.
“Sorry, Lock. I don’t want you peering in the windows either.”
He raised a brow. “I don’t peer.”
A laugh burst out of her. “No, I don’t suppose you do.”
I stretched out on my side next to her, laying my hand in the center of her stomach. Her head turned my way, but she didn’t protest my touch.
“I’m still deciding if I like you,” she murmured.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. So, if I decide I do, I’ll tell you where I work. It’s not a state secret or anything. It’s just, you know, I’m still thinking on you. Okay?”
She might not have decided if she liked me, but she let me skim my fingers over her abdomen in broad daylight. Her breath caught when I broached her waistband, which was loose enough to see her little black panties underneath. I traced the ridge of her hip bone, dipping my finger into her shorts, then back out. When I dipped in again, she caught my hand, and my eyes flicked to hers. They were wide, and maybe a little worried.
“No.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
She sighed in relief.
“Shit, Helen,” I rasped.
“Show’s starting.”
She sat up, but I stayed, the breath kicked out of me. Then she reached for me, catching my hand and giving it a tug. I sat up behind her, and she leaned back against my chest, her head beneath my chin.
I had my work cut out for me with this girl. We both had some decisions to make. She had to decide if she wanted me. I had to decide if she was worth all the trouble she was going to bring me.
But I knew without thinking.
My pops used to pat my head and say, “If there’s trouble, you’ll find it, then you’ll take it home and keep it.”
Yeah, I knew.
