Traction (The Driven World)

“I do. It’s at home, sitting in a garage. I haven’t touched it in years. It needs fixing, but with the racing season kicking off, I don’t have the time to spend on it.” I wish I could race it one more time. It’s been years since I sat in the driver’s seat of my beloved Mustang.

“I can help,” she offers suddenly, her excitement shining in those dark eyes I keep getting lost in. “My dad and I used to fix up cars all the time. And once yours is fixed, you can help me with mine.”

“Yours?”

Haelee nods. “On my seventeenth birthday, Dad took me out for lunch before stopping at a dealership, and he bought me a secondhand car. My choice.”

“And what was your choice?” I sit back, watching Haelee. The expression on her face lights up with happiness when she looks up at me.

“It’s a 1966 Mustang GT Convertible, and it’s currently gray, but I want so much to restore it to the natural color once I’m done fixing it,” she speaks animatedly. “The seats are leather; still the original, and they’re in great condition, so those will stay. Black leather. Can you imagine? I wanted to update the engine so badly, and we got most of the parts for it before …” Her words taper off into silence, and the hurt in her eyes is evident.

“You don’t have to speak about it if it hurts too much,” I appease her, hoping she’ll listen to me. But if I know anything about this girl by now, she’s not one to back down. Even when it hurts.

She’s silent for a long while. Her throat bops with a swallow before she blinks away the unshed tears that glisten in her eyes. “Before my dad passed away,” Haelee whispers.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Reaching out, I take her hand and bring it toward my mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m here if you ever want to talk. If you want to cry, I have big shoulders.”

A glimmer of a smile tickles her lips, lifting the corners to brighten her face. “Thank you, Kayden.” With her free hand, she swipes at the lone tear that traces a wet path down her cheek, making my chest ache with the need to protect her. “It’s still hard to talk about him.”

“But there are times you remember him and smile, recalling the good times.” She nods at my insistence, and I can’t help but feel happy that she has happy memories. “Then think of those. If he were here now, he would be smiling because he is so proud. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, and you’re also utterly tempting right now with those pouty lips and sparkling eyes.”

This makes her laugh out loud. “You’re sweet, when you want to be.”

“For the right girl, I can be anything they want me to be.” Her eyes hold wonder. They also hold hope. Perhaps she does feel more than I thought she did.

“Anything?”

I nod. “Tell me your heart’s desire, and I’ll make it come true,” I promise because I know I can do it. For her, I can do anything. It’s the first time I’ve felt this strongly so quickly—for anyone.

“Ice cream,” she tells me then, her lips spreading into a grin that brightens her expression, wiping the sadness away.

“Chocolate mint chip?” I expect her to say no, but after a short moment, she nods confidently. “That’s my girl.”

We make our way to the counter where we order our ice cream cones, and I pay for lunch. Outside the diner, the sun is slowly peeking through the gray, but the ground is already wet with the drizzle that must have come while we were eating.

I take Haelee’s hand, leading her to the benches that have been set up behind the diner under the see-through cover, which overlooks the ocean. We settle in and eat in silence. The chocolate flavor mingled with the mint has always been my favorite. I remember having the milkshakes as a kid and falling in love.

The thought has me turning my head, and I wonder, ever so briefly, if I would ever fall in love with her. With Haelee. She turns her head, probably feeling my gaze on her.

“What? Do I have ice cream on my nose or something?”

I can’t help but grin. “Or something,” is all I offer before focusing back on the waves crashing down below us. The water is a dark gray, matching the clouds overhead.

I finish up my cone, licking my fingers, making sure to get all the stickiness before I stand, needing to stretch my legs. I leave Haelee on the bench and step closer to the edge to look down at the large, brown boulders getting whacked by the waves.

“Thank you for everything,” Haelee offers, coming up behind me. Stopping beside me, she slips her hand in mine, which makes me comfortable that she wants to hold me.