Page 17 of Chalk It Up

chapter 12

Evie

August has the longest driveway in existence and my car decides this is a good place to die. It's quite literally the worst place to die. I know my little car is on the last leg of its last leg, but it could’ve spared me the dignity of at least getting me home. This wench figured it would be better to do me dirty and sputter out in front of August’s house.

Calling Thea to come get me feels like an overreaction. That’s a lot of effort for her to come out here and give me a ride home. And even if she did, I’d still have to find a way to get back here to fix my car and get it home. I could always tow it, but that’s ridiculously expensive in a small town that has one tow truck.

The only reasonable solution here is to ask August for help even though that’s the last thing I want to do. I’ve never met anyone more hot and cold than him. I know he was watching me tutor Addie the entire night. I could feel his stare all over me. I loved it. But right when he gets me to my car, he dumps a bucket of cold water on all of my feelings, and I’m left icy and confused.

The light is on in August’s living room so I figure he’s probably still awake. I would grab my phone and call him, but then I realize I don’t have his number. So I start the million mile walk back to his house. It’s really probably not even a quarter of a mile, but it's way too far to walk when I’ve already had a long day, and I don’t care for my destination, and I’m annoyed with my car.

Aside from being tired and annoyed, it's ridiculously cold out here. Once the sun sets behind the mountains, the temperature drops several degrees and I realize too late that I’ve left my coat in the car. I’m already more than halfway so there’s no point in going back now. Maybe I’ll die of hypothermic shock and not have to face August again. That somehow feels ideal.

I’m almost to his house when August comes running out of his front door and down his porch steps. My mouth instantly fills with way too much saliva. August looks disgustingly gorgeous every time I see him. Tailored clothes and dressed to the nines. But August in sweats and a well-cut t-shirt; I’m glad I forgot my jacket, because I’m instantly overheating.

“What on earth are you doing walking out here?” I’m genuinely speechless at the sight of this man and too distracted by him to immediately notice what he’s holding. August throws both of his arms over me to set a large peacoat on my shoulders like a cape, and I can’t stop staring at him. He looks so gorgeous and concerned. He fixes the jacket onto my shoulders and slowly brushes it down my arms to secure it in place. I wish he’d do the same for my heart because it seems to be in danger of falling as well. The slight contact has my heart racing, and I never want his hands off of me.

He readjusts the collar on the coat and his fingers gently graze over the traitorous pulse in my neck. His eyes shoot to mine and I know he felt my reaction because his pupils are blown enough for me to see them even in the dark. Goosebumps appear all along my skin. His touch is electrifying and unnecessary, but I want more of it everywhere. He’s acting like he’s looking for reasons to touch me and I never want him to stop searching.

Then I remembered that he asked me a question. “Oh, umm.” I say tossing my thumb over my shoulder nervously. “Yeah, my car actually broke down at the end of your driveway.” I brush some of my hair behind my ear to give my hand something to do. “I would’ve called but I don’t have your number.”

“Evangeline, it’s freezing out here.” Five words have me feeling equally chastised and cared for. “Give me your phone.” I immediately tug my phone out of my very small skirt pocket and pass it over to him. I know my role with an upset man is to placate and play it safe. Take the blame for whatever is making him angry and everything will go much smoother. The traumatized portion of my brain is trying to tell me he’s mad at me, but a different part of me knows he’s not. That he’s taking care of me. That he cares for me.

“Why do you need my phone? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He swipes open my phone easily because I’m the one person on the planet without a passcode on it.

“Your car is a rust bucket and I’m not going to risk you walking on the side of the highway in the dark and freezing cold again.” I can tell now that he’s opening the contact app and I’m assuming adding his name and number. When he’s done he hands it back to me with a confused look on his face. “Why are you saying sorry? I’m not upset at you. I’m upset that you drive this bucket around and are constantly at risk. You need a new car.”

I snatch my phone back more than irritated. Does he think we can all just afford new cars? “Well, not all of us can be part of the town's golden family and self-made millionaires, now can we? Some of us just have to live with the bucket cars we can afford.”

“Billionaire.” He crosses his arms not in frustration but something like playful pride. The clear, twinkling night sky and full moon cast the perfect shadows to accentuate his biceps. I mentally wipe off the drool that I’m holding back.

“Okay then, Billionaire.” I roll my eyes sarcastically, but I’m not even slightly bothered. He’s fun when he’s a little playful. “Can you help me with my car or do you just make a habit of giving your number to damsels in distress at midnight?”

“Just you, Princess.” As if he didn’t just send my heart rate into the stratosphere, August walks past me toward my car and I do a quick run to catch up to him. We walk in silence the rest of the way to my bucket because all my words are lodged deep in my throat along with a strong desire to hear August call me Princess again.

The crunch of gravel beneath our feet is the only sound accompanying us on our walk back to the car. That is, until August breaks the silence in a way I never expected. He stops walking so I follow suit, not knowing what’s wrong. “Evangeline, you walked all the way to my house down this driveway.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Umm, yes? I did. What’s your point?”

“Look at the shoes you’re wearing.” My feet didn’t hurt until he just reminded me that I’m in heels.

“I’m fine. I can walk and stand all day in heels at work.” It’s a lie. Sort of. I can, but it definitely doesn’t feel good.

Right on queue, as if he could read my mind, August responds, “I have a sister. I know what it’s like for women in heels. There’s no way that feels good. Even if you can walk and stand, you shouldn’t have to.”

“What do you–” I’m cut off by August swooping me off the ground, bridal style and continuing his walk to my car. “August, put me down.” I try fruitlessly to shove out of his hold.

“Not a chance. You’re a princess, so I’m going to treat you like one.” He’s continuing his strides as if he weren’t even holding me. His steps are solid and his breathing is deep and even. It’s unreasonably hot how easily he carries me.

“I’m certainly not a princess, you brute. Put me back on the ground.” I don’t even know what to do with my hands at this point. I don’t want to hold his chest like some historical romance book cover, and I don’t want to hang my arms off to the side and go boneless on him. That would only separate the buttons on my shirt, and well…hmm…No, Evie. Bad, Evie.

“Nope. Just stop arguing. I’m not putting you down and I know for sure you can’t get down on your own. Just enjoy the ride.” Well then. I don’t hate the sound of that at all.

I resign to crossing my arms in mock frustration. Really, my feet do feel better and having his hands tightly on my arm and around my thighs is not a bad position to be in. His firm grip is safe and secure, and his body heat is warm even through the coat. I fight the urge to snuggle deeper into him.

We finally reach my car after what feels like an eternity, and he sets me down extremely carefully. I’m not a fragile woman. I’ve survived a lot more than anyone should have to, but being handled so delicately sometimes feels nice.

“Pop the hood, Princess.” August demands as he rounds to the front of the car and I comply, setting his coat in the passenger seat, before stepping back out of my car and closing my door. Maple is making little yipping bark noises, but I can tell she’s just saying hi.