Wild Tendy (IceCats 2)

She takes in a deep breath, and I can hear the disapproval. “I don’t know why Ashley had to go start a family.” I laugh, but she doesn’t. “Listen, send me Amaya’s number.”

“Why?” I say, coming to a stop at a red light. I scrunch up my face at her request.

“I want to speak to her.”

I roll my eyes as I tap my fingers on the steering wheel. “Mom, you can’t keep being my advocate. I’m almost thirty—”

“I don’t care, Nicolas.” Damn, she used my full name. “You can be ninety and I’ll be on my death bed, and I will advocate for you.” She’s impossible. “Don’t make me come there.”

“Jesus, fine. I’ll send it to you once I’m ho—”

But before I can finish my sentence, I’m thrown forward, and my chest hits the steering wheel. The loud crunch of my car getting smashed behind me makes me breathless. Or maybe it’s from slamming into the steering wheel.

“What in the world was that?”

I look behind me to see a car almost in my back seat. “Fuck, I just got rear-ended. Let me call you back.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say, hanging up and throwing open my door. I get out and look at the other car to find the driver with her head on the steering wheel. I rush to her, praying she’s okay. When I reach her, she’s lifting her head. Tears rush down her face, along with blood from a cut on her forehead. I pull open her door, and she looks up at me.

“I am so sorry.”

“Are you okay?” I ask, ignoring her apology. She has to be okay.

“My head hurts,” she says, wiping her forehead. “Oh, because I’m bleeding. Awesome. Could this day get any fucking worse?”

I crouch down to her eye level, panic rushing through me. I couldn’t care less about my sports car; I don’t like blood, and it’s running fast down the side of her face. I pull off my shirt, and her eyes widen.

“Usually when you get rear-ended, you get pissed, not naked.”

I smirk as I press the shirt to her head. She takes it with a smile as I ask, “Do you feel dizzy?”

“No, just a little pain. I’m okay, though,” she says, and then she starts to get out. I stand up, helping her out as she looks at the damage. She’s tall. While I’m way taller, she’s taller than most girls I meet. She’s almost to my shoulders and thick in all the right places. Her eyes are a stunning dark green and flooded with tears. Her lashes are really long, giving her catlike eyes a dramatic look. I don’t usually look people in the eye, but hers demand my attention. Her dark brown hair is up in a messy bun, and I think that’s a pen or two in her hair. She’s wearing a tight white tee with some kind of logo on it and a pair of tight black leggings somehow containing her ass. She seems completely annoyed, and when she holds out her hand, I look toward it as she says, “I’m assuming you have insurance with that flashy car.”

“I do. Do you?”

“Yeah,” she says with a sigh. “Man, I can’t believe I did this.”

“It’s no big deal,” I say offhandedly. “As long as we’re both okay. It was an accident.”

“I was trying to find my phone, which I know is awful, but I had to answer it. Damn it, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” I say once more, looking her over. She’s really pretty.

She swallows hard as the cops and ambulance arrive. “Well, I’m glad you’re not being a dick about this because that would be the cherry on my shit sundae of a day.”

She looks distraught, and I believe today hasn’t been her best. An officer comes up to us to make sure everyone is good, and she’s led away to have her head tended to while I give my statement. I notice people have gathered, watching as the tow trucks come and begin to load up our cars. A tingling starts in the back of my throat as I answer the questions from the officer. The questions are endless. I know he’s just doing his job, but I need to move from this spot.

“Can I go check on her?”

“Who?”

“The lady who hit me.”

“Oh, Ms. Pearce? I have more questions, Mr. Merryweather.”

Pearce. Hm. I wonder what her first name is? “And I’ve got you, but I need to breathe for a second.” I don’t even give him time to stop me or even disagree before I head to where she is stepping out of the ambulance. There is a bandage on her head, and she has a no-nonsense look on her face.

“I hear you. I will go to the ER if I have any of that. I’m fine, really. I just need to get back to my shop.” The look on her face says otherwise. She has no intention of doing anything they say. When she sees me, she lets her shoulders fall. “Both our cars are un-drivable, which is fantastic. Again, I’m so sorry.”