Always You (Love Hurts 1)

“Hey, Wrenn.” He smiled, his eyes so focused on mine, like he didn’t trust himself to let them wander over my body. The thought sent shivers down my spine.

“Hey,” I said warmly. “We should probably get our tickets.” I glanced around the deserted entrance and frowned. “Though I would have expected more of a crowd.” I walked up to a rather uninterested looking dude sitting in the booth.

“Hi. Two tickets for Psycho,” I said.

“Wrong day, honey. That’s tomorrow night.” Shit. I turned around to see Dalton chuckling behind me. My desire to punch the ticket guy for calling me “honey” was washed away by my embarrassment about getting the day wrong.

“It’s not funny,” I grumbled, my cheeks glowing red. “I feel like an idiot.” I was such a tool. Who gets the freaking day wrong?

“Come on, it is pretty funny.” He tugged at my arm, making me look up at him. His smile was contagious, and pretty soon we were both laughing.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

I shook my head.

Food? No, I’d been way too nervous for food.

“Okay. Let’s get some dinner. There’s a place just up off the highway that does a pretty decent meal. We can go in my car.”

I nodded, following him, not quite able to comprehend that I was about to get in his car—alone.

Just him and me.

“Nice,” I murmured, running my finger along the bonnet of the red Mazda rx7.

He razed his eyebrows, amused.

“What?” I said teasingly, “I’m not allowed to like cars?”

“No, it’s not that at all.” He shook his head. “It’s just not many girls your age would even know what this is.”

“My age?” I scoffed. “You’re only a few years older than me.”

“Six,” he corrected, his eyes twinkling. “I’m twenty-three.”

“Actually, smartass, five,” I shot back.

“You’re eighteen?” he said, his jaw dropping.

“Yes.” I smirked. “Remember? I’m repeating this year. That makes me eighteen, and legal in many countries for various activities.”

We both fell silent as we climbed into the car. Did I really just say that?

God, I needed a gag; anything to stop me talking. I buckled up my seatbelt, loving the feel of the low seats.

“You sure you can handle this thing?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. It worked.

He winked at me as he revved the engine before slamming it into gear. I laughed as we took off down the street, smoke ripping up under the wheels. “Sorry. I guess I should be acting a little more responsibly, huh?” he chuckled, his eyes bright with excitement.

“I don’t know, I’m liking this side of you. And besides, it’s the weekend. You have to let your hair down sometime.” I liked the idea of him letting his guard down around me. It told me that he didn’t see me as a student. The thought made my stomach somersault.

***

“So, tell me about you. You love fast cars and horror movies; what else is there to know about Mr. Reid?” I asked, licking the last of possibly the best chocolate mousse I’d ever experienced off my spoon.

“Well, for one, my name is Dalton,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Okay, Dalton.” I giggled. Dalton. I loved that name.