Spitfire in Love (Chasing Red 3)

“It’s late,” I said, walking beside her, matching her steps. “What do you need to do?”

“I need to find the cure for cancer.”

“What about bullheadedness?”

“That’s next.”

My mouth twitched. She always had a comeback for everything. I wanted to come up with something stupid to pester her with just to hear what she was going to say.

“Hold up,” I said when she kept walking toward the exit. “I need a drink.”

I went to the vending machine. It was two dollars and fifty cents for a bottle. Just as I was inserting the last dollar, I curled it in my palm, and hid it in my pocket.

“Got a dollar?”

She huffed out an impatient breath. “Why didn’t you just text me that you wanted a drink? I could’ve saved myself a dollar. Here.” She threw it at me.

I caught it easily. She didn’t look impressed.

“Don’t choke on it,” she added. She looked like she wanted me to do the opposite. She was in a bad mood, her movements punchy. I popped open the lid, heard the fizz, and took a sip. “You can bring me a drink next time.”

“Says who?”

I opened the door leading to the parking lot, let her pass first. “Well, start bringing a dollar or two for me every time you pick me up then.”

She shot me a glare that could boil water before opening the car door with her key. It wasn’t automatic. Once she was inside, she had to reach over and unlock the passenger side.

She looked really pissed. I reached for the dollar in my pocket and rolled it around my fingers before I slid into the passenger seat.

“Kara.”

She didn’t respond but placed her key in the ignition.

“Wait,” I said, reaching for her hand. It was cold. I wanted to warm it up between my hands, but I knew she wouldn’t let me. Slowly and gently, I unfurled her fingers one by one, savoring the feel of her skin, wanting to linger, wanting to caress, but I stopped myself.

Her eyes were wide as they searched my face and dropped when I placed the dollar on her palm.

“I was just kidding,” I murmured.

Her gaze lifted to mine. And I knew she felt it too.

God, I wanted to kiss her.

The noise from a group of students exiting the building broke the moment. She moved away and drew a deep breath.

“Don’t talk to me,” she said and turned the radio on high before starting the car and zipping out of the parking lot.

I just smiled. Fine by me. It was enough to be around her.

Her car looked cleaner and smelled fresher too. Hopefully got her useless brother to detail it for her this afternoon maybe. The seats were still a little damp, but I didn’t mind. I could sit on a rock for all I cared if she was beside me.

I cranked the window open a little, letting the wind swirl in the car. Watching it tease her ponytail. What would she do if I pulled it, releasing her hair so it could flow down her back and shoulders?

She’d probably open my door and push me out.

She threw me a worried look when I chuckled.

I watched her hands for a moment. She had long fingers and nails painted hot pink. I wondered if she’d painted her toes the same color.