“Que carajo...” Hector muttered. “Nena, you don’t know me.”
She raised a shoulder. “And I don’t want to.”
Oh. Oh, wow. This was going downhill fast even though Rider looked like he wanted a bucket of popcorn.
Ainsley twisted in her seat and faced me, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Are you going with Rider?” she asked, voice low but still audible.
“Where are you guys going?” Hector asked, gaze still fastened on her.
She ignored him, and my stomach was doing cartwheels again. “I was going to take her to the garage,” Rider said.
Hector’s lip curled. “Sounds legit.” He smirked when Rider lifted his hand and extended a long middle finger. “You’re not going to Ramon’s tonight? Big party.”
Rider’s gaze met mine, and there was a hitch in my throat. “Not if Mallory’s going to go with me to the garage.”
“You can bring her,” he said, and then looked at Ainsley with a smirk. “I would invite you, mami, but it’s probably not classy enough for you.”
“If you’re involved, probably not,” she replied drily. “But I’m not interested anyway, so whatever.”
I barely recognized that Hector and Ainsley started arguing at that point, most of it in Spanish. A party? As lame as it sounded, I’d never been to a party before. Nowhere even near one. My pulse fluttered in my neck like an out of control hummingbird. Dropping my hands to my legs, I ran my palms over my thighs.
What would I do there? I’d be clinging to Rider like an octopus. I would be expected to talk—to mingle. To drink. The only time I’d ever tasted alcohol was when I was nine and I’d ended up spitting it out. I could barely speak in front of multiple people right now, let alone hang out at a party.
Rider’s gaze met mine, and I knew I must’ve looked panicked. I could practically feel the blood draining from my face. “Nah, I’m not really feeling up to a party tonight,” he said when there was a break in the two arguing. “You okay with that, Mallory?”
Part of me knew he was saying that just for my sake, because I was sure a party had to be more fun than him trying to teach me how to spray-paint. But there was no denying the sugary-sweet relief buzzing through my veins.
I was taking steps—baby steps—but going to the party felt like a huge jump off a cliff with no rope. Swallowing, I nodded. “I’m okay with that.”
“Good,” he murmured, sitting back. “Then the garage it is.”
Trying to play it cool, I lowered my gaze, but I couldn’t stop the smile from tipping up the corners of my lips. It was definitely a goofy one, too big and out of control, but I was excited. Nervous. But so much more excited.
No matter what went down tonight—tonight would be a first.
Chapter 22
Rider was behind the wheel of my car for the drive to the Razorback Garage. Made sense since he knew where to go and I was a bundle of nerves. For the first couple of moments, as we made our way out of the parking garage, we didn’t talk.
I took that time trying to come up with something to say. “Did...did you like the café?” I asked. “I know it was...different.” Once those words were out of my mouth, I winced. Could I have come up with anything lamer? Like, how’s the weather?
Ugh.
He bit down on his lower lip as he glanced over at me. “It was cool. How was it different?”
“I was just...thinking that before, I...would’ve never set foot in a place like that.” I paused, wondering where I was going with this. “We wouldn’t have.”
He slid his hand over the wheel, easily navigating the turns. “So, what you’re really asking is if I was comfortable in a place like that?”
I opened my mouth, but the words got stuck again. As usual. Heat swept into my cheeks. That was what I was asking, wasn’t it?
“Mouse?”
Shaking my head, I fiddled with the strap of my seat belt. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He was quiet as he pulled out in traffic. “You didn’t?”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Seems like a pretty obvious question, though. I mean, we don’t have the same lives anymore, do we?” he asked.
I peeked at him. He was staring straight ahead. One hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on his thigh. My natural reaction was just to stay quiet. If I did, I knew Rider would move on to something else, but I put that out there. I had to own it. I couldn’t stay quiet forever.
Drawing in a shallow breath, I focused on the red truck in front of us. “We don’t, but I...I really don’t think about it. That’s why I didn’t think twice about...the café.”
“I’m as comfortable in a place like that as I am anywhere else,” he replied after a few moments, his voice level but devoid of any emotion.
Glancing over at him, I felt like a total tool. “I’ve probably...offended you. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t,” he responded, squinting. “Honestly.”
I nodded as I pressed my lips together. There was so much that Rider and I shared in the past, but sometimes it felt like there was a gulf between us. I could sit here and think about it or I could try to forge a bridge over that gulf.
Forcing my fingers to relax around the seat belt, I dropped my hands to my lap. “In...class yesterday, it sounded like...you and Mr. Santos know each other.”
“He helped me out when I got busted tagging the school,” he replied. “Thought I told you that.”