Page 57 of Wrong For Me

Finally, he shakes his head, tearing his gaze away to look out the window. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to…you just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Didn’t think a girl could like cars?” I don’t bother to keep the bite out of my tone.

“No,” he says adamantly. “Of course not. I just didn’t thinkyouwere the type.”

“Because I’m a princess, right?” I snap.

He’s quiet for a second. “Sorry, Rose,” he finally murmurs. “I guess that was unfair.”

I shift in my seat. I’m pretty sure he’s sincere, so I offer him a bone. “Honestly, I wasn’t into cars at all, before we started this project. Did you hear me say I didn’t like to drive?”

“You knew the bus schedule,” he says.

I nod. “Yeah. I didn’t learn how to drive until I was eighteen. I was always too anxious behind the wheel. It just felt really overwhelming to me, all the things to remember and everything that could go wrong.”

“You don’t seem nervous now,” he points out, gaze locked on my hands where they loosely curl around the gear shaft and steering wheel.

“I’m not, not really. My uncle Lennon thought it might help me if I had a better understanding of how vehicles work. So he showed me a bunch of classic car pictures and had me pick the one that seemed the sturdiest to me. I picked a Mustang and he got a friend of his to start scanning lots and collectors until we found one to work on. Together we did all the research on what needed to be done to make it run—and look good again. By the time we were finished, I knew this car inside out. I can’t imagine ever being scared when I’m driving Cindy.”

Leo is staring at me again, but this time the disbelief is absent from his expression. Instead he looks…well, I’m not quite sure. Maybe intrigued? Impressed is probably too much to hope for but I could swear I catch a flash in his eyes that looks an awful lot like—

“That’s really nice,” he finally mumbles, directing his attention back to the window. “That you have family members who care about you like that.”

I want to ask him about his family, but the tense set of his shoulders and jaw tells me that he might not welcome the questions. So instead I just nod. “Yeah. My family is the best.”

We drive in quiet for a few moments, and, once again, it doesn’t feel awkward or tense. I reach over to flip on the radio, familiar strains of 90’s rock filling the vehicle.

“My mom loved Alice in Chains,” Leo says softly. “I grew up on this shit.”

“Me too,” I murmur. Truer words had rarely been spoken. I’d literally grown up on tour buses, this kind of music blasting through the speakers while we traveled with our parents to Ransom’s next stop. This was also the kind of music our grandpa taught us to play when he first put guitars and keyboards into our hands.

But I don’t tell Leo any of that. I’d already let slip that tidbit about Ransom’s most famous song. That was more than enough sharing about my family for one afternoon.

“You said your roommate was supposed to give you a ride?” I ask instead, trying to shift the subject to more neutral topics. “Is he a student too?”

“He’s starting student teaching this semester,” he says. “You, uh, met him.”

I picture the smiling guy with teasing eyes behind the bar, encouraging his friend to talk to me. “Bodhi?”

For a brief moment, Leo looks surprised that I remember, but he smooths out his expression quickly. “Yeah. We’ve been roommates since freshman year. That’s how we met.”

“Did you transfer to the same school for your master’s?”

“Nah. Bodhi didn’t know what he wanted to do so he took time off. Tried a bunch of different careers, actually. He was a bank teller, a baker—“

“A candle stick maker?”

Leo laughs, the sound low and rumbling in the confined space of the car. “Nah. But he did work as a cashier in this kitschy little tourist shop, so he probably sold his fair share of candles. Really, he was just wasting time. He knew he wanted to be a teacher but it’s what his parents wanted, too, so I think he felt like he needed to at least try a little rebellion before he got down to it.”

“Or maybe he was waiting for you to be ready for your doctorate?”

Leo scoffs. “Not likely.”

I couldn’t help but wonder, though. From the little I’d seen of him, Bodhi had seemed like the most dedicated kind of friend. You’d pretty much have to be, to put up with Leo. He really wasn’t joking around about the grumpy asshole thing. Leo is definitely the kind of guy who makes you work for a friendship with him. For Bodhi to be so loyal to him, their connection must be really strong.

“You have a lot of work to catch up on this weekend?” he asks.

“A bunch of reading. Kind of scary how quickly it all piles up.”