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“What are you doing here?” I asked, completely dumb struck.
“Well, hello to you too, Princess.” He chuckles, one eyebrow arching in amusement.
“What are you doing here?” I repeat.
“Can I come in?” he asks, leaning forward on the balls of his feet so that he might look past my head into the hallway behind me.
“No!” I shout, and then cringe inwardly, hoping I didn’t wake up my mom in the other room.
“Well then, will you come out?” He levels me with a pleading stare.
“Bodhi,” I snap.
“Keaton,” he responds mockingly.
“What are you doing here?” I repeat for the third time, slow enough that hopefully the words sink into his thick head.
“You weren’t at work, and I needed to speak to you,” he answers, as if the reason is completely obvious.
“And what, they gave you my address?” My voice rises in pitch, and I just know I must look manic right now.
“No,” he laughs softly and has the decency to look a little guilty before admitting, “it was on your insurance information.”
I inwardly face-palm, unable to believe just how stupid it was of me to let him take a picture of my entire insurance document. I was just so peeved in that moment that I clearly wasn’t thinking straight.
“What do you want?” I say slowly, pulling myself back down a couple of levels.
I really should take up some sort of meditation, and I would definitely be looking into it if I had the time. At the rate I’m going, I’ll end up having a heart attack before I’m twenty-five years old.
“Will you please come outside?” Bodhi turns his body to the side, sweeping his hand out in an invitation for me to join him.
I really want to tell him that I don’t have time for this, but also don’t want to give him any cause to renege on his offer.
“Fine. But make it fast; I have somewhere to be.” I step out onto the front porch, pulling the door closed behind me, and walk down the steps onto the sidewalk, knowing that if he wants to talk to me, he’ll follow.
“Well,” I turn to face him, “what’s so important that you had to come all the way to my house to tell me?”
He reaches up, combing his fingers through his sandy brown hair before turning fully to face me.
“So, I talked to Milo the other day.”
“And?” I draw the word out, not sure what he’s getting at, but then hope sparks in my chest and I have to ask. “Is my car ready?”
I hold my breath, praying that he’s here to take me to pick up the Camaro, but deflate when he shakes his head and answers, “No.”
It’s been close to a week now, and I know it takes time to fix that kind of damage, but I was really hoping to have the car back by now.
“Some of the parts needed for that model are proving to be a little more difficult to get a hold of than Milo initially thought,” Bodhi explains.
“Like how long?”
“We don’t know for sure,” he answers, wincing slightly, knowing it’s not the answer I want to hear, “but I feel bad leaving you without a car, so I’m lending you that one.” Bodhi points toward the street behind me, and I turn to see a new model red Subaru WRX.
“What?”
I take in the sleek lines of the car and can feel my jaw practically hit the sidewalk.
“I’m lending you my—”
