Daddy's Best Friend - Page 46

“Relax, I know how to drive.” She hit the radio. “We need some music—why isn’t this synced to your phone?”

“I never set that up. It has Satellite Radio.” I waved her off. “Okay, drive it around the parking lot—that’s it.”

“Fuck that.” She shook her head back and forth. “I’m hitting the highway in this baby—I want to see what it can do.”

“Please don’t do that…” I actually considered jumping out and trying to flag down a security guard for help, but I didn’t want to get Meghan in trouble.

“It’ll be fine.” Meghan backed up and made the tires squeal when she hit the accelerator.

This is a fucking nightmare. Greyson is going to kill me!

My nails dug into the leather seat as Meghan drove out of the parking lot. I was beyond terrified, but I realized that I was just going to have to ride it out. I hoped Greyson would believe my story if he found out Meghan drove his Porsche. I kept looking in the rear-view mirror—afraid we were going to get pulled over—afraid Meghan was going to go too fast. Thankfully, she settled down once she hit the highway—and in a moment that brought me an incredible amount of relief—she turned off at the first exit. My knuckles were white when she pulled the car back into the parking lot. I wanted to scream at her, but I wanted her out of the driver’s seat first.

“This thing is awesome…” She picked up her phone. “I bet my music would sound great in it too.”

“You’ve driven it. That’s enough.” I reached over to take the keys from the ignition.

“I’ll get out in a minute. I just want to hear one of my favorite songs—see how it bumps with this sound system.” She hit a couple of buttons and synced her phone to the car.

“Fine…” I sat back in my seat and glared at her.

“Wait, why does this car say it’s registered to Ricky Bonds? Like—the football player?” She stared at the screen.

“It was a gift from him.” I nodded.

“Holy shit. You didn’t tell me you were living with Ricky Bonds!” She looked at me in shock.

“I’m not. I live with his agent—Greyson Foster. He’s a family friend.” I sighed.

I really didn’t want to tell her all that—it was bad enough that she thought I was ju

st some spoiled rich girl…

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” Meghan’s mouth fell open. “So—you must have celebrities around all the time? No wonder you got into Sports Management! You’ve already got a connection!”

“I don’t even know if I’m doing that anymore.” I shrugged. “Seriously, Meghan. Please—I need to go home now.”

“Fine…” She hit the button to play her song. “Just let me hear my song.”

I sat there while Meghan nodded her head to the beat of a rap song I didn’t recognize. After she was done, she turned off the car and handed the keys back to me. I was so angry that I was seething, but I kept my temper in check. There didn’t seem to be any damage. If Greyson looked at the tracker, he would probably wonder why I just made a random loop before returning to school, but at least everything was okay. I finally let out a sigh of relief once I was behind the wheel of the car and on the way home.

I don’t think Meghan and I are going to be friends anymore…

Two days ago

I didn’t talk to Meghan much at school the day after she decided to hijack Greyson’s Porsche for a joyride. I was civil—but that was about the end of it. I made sure she was nowhere to be seen when I pulled the keys out of my purse after school. I had just made it home, changed into some relaxing clothes, and started working on my assignments when there was a—knock—followed by the sound of someone rapidly pressing the doorbell. I was instantly on high alert because I definitely wasn’t expecting anyone, and Greyson didn’t mention visitors. I walked down the stairs and peeked outside to see Meghan—standing on the front porch.

“What the hell?” I pulled the door open. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see the house.” She ducked under my arm before I had a chance to react.

“Meghan—this isn’t my house. Greyson doesn’t like to have visitors.” I pulled the door wide open. “You need to leave. Wait, how did you find out where he lived—and how did you get through the front gate?”

“Oh, when I synced my phone to your car, it downloaded a bunch of information.” She smiled and looked around the house. “Is he home?”

“No, and you need to leave before he gets here!” I motioned to the door.

“I want the grand tour first.” She started skipping down the hallway.

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