Falling Away
Page 29
He opened the door and storm sounds flooded inside again.
“Thanks,” he bit out, crashing into the seat and shaking water off his arms. His long black shorts shone with rain, and his gray T-shirt was now a little darker.
And suctioned to his skin, making every dip and ridge of his abs and chest completely visible.
“You okay, Princess?” I asked, trying to look innocent.
He slicked back his hair and put on his seat belt. “Seat belt,” he prompted, ignoring me.
Pulling my belt on, I reached down and adjusted the seat and then reached for the ignition.
“Wait.” Jax put his hand on mine to stop me. He was so warm. “Do you have the clutch pressed in?”
I shook my head.
“Hold down the clutch with your left foot and the brake with your right,” he said. “When you’re ready, turn the ignition, but keep your feet in place.”
Doing as I was told, I kicked off my flip-flops and started the car. When the engine roared to life, I let out a smile even as a nervous heat weakened my arms and legs.
“Now.” He took my hand and placed it on the stick. “This is first gear.” And he held my hand in his as he shifted me out of neutral. “This is second.” We slammed straight down into second as he fisted me, and my arm was getting weaker.
I didn’t know why. I closed my eyes, feeling him move us.
“Third.” Up and to the right.
“Fourth.” Straight down.
“Fifth.” His deep voice carried me up to the right again. “And sixth.” He slammed me straight down, and my stomach fluttered as I lost breath.
“And this is reverse,” he said just above a whisper. “And just a tip. It’s better to drive with your eyes open, K.C.”
I blinked them open. Yeah, so I didn’t even know how to drive a stick yet, but I definitely wanted one as my next car.
I swallowed, scowling at him. “Can I go now?”
He smiled and leaned over to switch the music. Pop Evil’s “Trenches.” “A little inspiration for you, Tough Girl.”
“Yeah, okay,” I replied sarcastically. Releasing the clutch, I pressed the gas and sat stunned as the car sputtered to its death.
My face flooded with embarrassment, and I could hear Jax’s snort and see his chest shaking with silent laughter out of the corner of my eye.
“Mmm … so that’s your experience with men?” he joked. “I arrived just in time.” He took my hand, placing it on the stick.
“Turn on the car,” he prompted.
I did and sat with my foot on the clutch and my other on the brake.
“Put her in first,” he ordered, keeping his palm against my knuckles.
Using all my might until the muscles in my arm burned, I pulled the stick to the left and pushed it up into first.
“Okay,” he started. “Now, when I say go, I want you to—slowly—release pressure from the clutch as you apply pressure—slowly—to the gas. Give-and-take. Push and pull. You’re going to feel the spot where they meet, when one is ready to be released and the other is ready to take over.”
His azure eyes turned stormy, and his soft lips melted together as he studied me. “Are you ready?”
For what?
Oh, yeah. “Yes,” I choked out, nodding.
“Go ahead. Don’t release the clutch completely until you feel it.” And he sat back but kept his hand on mine.
Slowly, I relinquished pressure from the clutch and felt him watching me as I applied pressure to the gas.
“Slowly,” he reminded me.
As I pressed the gas, I felt the car start to move, and I looked to Jax, wide-eyed.
He grinned. “Do you feel it?” he asked. “She’s ready. Release the clutch.”
I took my foot off, and jiggled the steering wheel nervously as the car vaulted forward. My smile spread, and I laughed.
“What do I do now?” I shouted, excitement taking over.
“What do you think you do?”
“Shift?” I sucked in air and clutched the steering wheel.
He squeezed my hand. “When I say go, press in the clutch again, and we’ll shift,” he instructed me. “Go!”
“Jax!” I screamed at his lack of notice, and frantically pressed in the clutch. Jax grasped my hand and yanked us down into second.
“Again, release the clutch slowly as you apply the gas.”
I could feel his fingers slide between mine, and my heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.
As I released and applied, I found the spot where they met in the middle and charged ahead, releasing the clutch again.
“I did it!” I burst out, smiling. “I did it!”
“Of course you did,” Jax said. “You ready for me to let go?”
“No!” I gasped, laughing. “Don’t you dare!”
I felt his hand tighten on mine, and his palm was so smooth and soft, his fingers fitting perfectly between mine.
The car reached thirty miles an hour and seemed to reach its peak. Pressing in the clutch, I looked down to the diagram on the stick—covered by Jax’s and my hands—and remembered that the next gear was up and to the right. Jax’s hand was light on mine as I shifted up and punched the stick into third, releasing the clutch as the gas took over.
I loved this. Even though I was stuttering my way down the track, and I could see Jax jerking with my rough transitions, I was filled with elation.
“Thanks,” he bit out, crashing into the seat and shaking water off his arms. His long black shorts shone with rain, and his gray T-shirt was now a little darker.
And suctioned to his skin, making every dip and ridge of his abs and chest completely visible.
“You okay, Princess?” I asked, trying to look innocent.
He slicked back his hair and put on his seat belt. “Seat belt,” he prompted, ignoring me.
Pulling my belt on, I reached down and adjusted the seat and then reached for the ignition.
“Wait.” Jax put his hand on mine to stop me. He was so warm. “Do you have the clutch pressed in?”
I shook my head.
“Hold down the clutch with your left foot and the brake with your right,” he said. “When you’re ready, turn the ignition, but keep your feet in place.”
Doing as I was told, I kicked off my flip-flops and started the car. When the engine roared to life, I let out a smile even as a nervous heat weakened my arms and legs.
“Now.” He took my hand and placed it on the stick. “This is first gear.” And he held my hand in his as he shifted me out of neutral. “This is second.” We slammed straight down into second as he fisted me, and my arm was getting weaker.
I didn’t know why. I closed my eyes, feeling him move us.
“Third.” Up and to the right.
“Fourth.” Straight down.
“Fifth.” His deep voice carried me up to the right again. “And sixth.” He slammed me straight down, and my stomach fluttered as I lost breath.
“And this is reverse,” he said just above a whisper. “And just a tip. It’s better to drive with your eyes open, K.C.”
I blinked them open. Yeah, so I didn’t even know how to drive a stick yet, but I definitely wanted one as my next car.
I swallowed, scowling at him. “Can I go now?”
He smiled and leaned over to switch the music. Pop Evil’s “Trenches.” “A little inspiration for you, Tough Girl.”
“Yeah, okay,” I replied sarcastically. Releasing the clutch, I pressed the gas and sat stunned as the car sputtered to its death.
My face flooded with embarrassment, and I could hear Jax’s snort and see his chest shaking with silent laughter out of the corner of my eye.
“Mmm … so that’s your experience with men?” he joked. “I arrived just in time.” He took my hand, placing it on the stick.
“Turn on the car,” he prompted.
I did and sat with my foot on the clutch and my other on the brake.
“Put her in first,” he ordered, keeping his palm against my knuckles.
Using all my might until the muscles in my arm burned, I pulled the stick to the left and pushed it up into first.
“Okay,” he started. “Now, when I say go, I want you to—slowly—release pressure from the clutch as you apply pressure—slowly—to the gas. Give-and-take. Push and pull. You’re going to feel the spot where they meet, when one is ready to be released and the other is ready to take over.”
His azure eyes turned stormy, and his soft lips melted together as he studied me. “Are you ready?”
For what?
Oh, yeah. “Yes,” I choked out, nodding.
“Go ahead. Don’t release the clutch completely until you feel it.” And he sat back but kept his hand on mine.
Slowly, I relinquished pressure from the clutch and felt him watching me as I applied pressure to the gas.
“Slowly,” he reminded me.
As I pressed the gas, I felt the car start to move, and I looked to Jax, wide-eyed.
He grinned. “Do you feel it?” he asked. “She’s ready. Release the clutch.”
I took my foot off, and jiggled the steering wheel nervously as the car vaulted forward. My smile spread, and I laughed.
“What do I do now?” I shouted, excitement taking over.
“What do you think you do?”
“Shift?” I sucked in air and clutched the steering wheel.
He squeezed my hand. “When I say go, press in the clutch again, and we’ll shift,” he instructed me. “Go!”
“Jax!” I screamed at his lack of notice, and frantically pressed in the clutch. Jax grasped my hand and yanked us down into second.
“Again, release the clutch slowly as you apply the gas.”
I could feel his fingers slide between mine, and my heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.
As I released and applied, I found the spot where they met in the middle and charged ahead, releasing the clutch again.
“I did it!” I burst out, smiling. “I did it!”
“Of course you did,” Jax said. “You ready for me to let go?”
“No!” I gasped, laughing. “Don’t you dare!”
I felt his hand tighten on mine, and his palm was so smooth and soft, his fingers fitting perfectly between mine.
The car reached thirty miles an hour and seemed to reach its peak. Pressing in the clutch, I looked down to the diagram on the stick—covered by Jax’s and my hands—and remembered that the next gear was up and to the right. Jax’s hand was light on mine as I shifted up and punched the stick into third, releasing the clutch as the gas took over.
I loved this. Even though I was stuttering my way down the track, and I could see Jax jerking with my rough transitions, I was filled with elation.
