Hearts on Air
Page 75
He smirked and continued talking. “You find a sticker, you know what sort of alarm you’re dealing with. Messy fuckers break the window, but jimmying the lock was my specialty. I swear I had techniques for every make and model. Once you’re inside, you might need to cut a lock on the steering wheel.” He reached out and gestured a cutting motion across my chest. I swallowed down a lump of desire when his fingers brushed my bare skin. He was just an inch shy of my boob and the cheeky fucker knew it.
“If an alarm goes off, you deactivate it by cutting the wiring. Like I said, it all depends on the manufacturer.” He made another snipping motion across my chest and I shot him a small glare. He was pushing it now but I couldn’t help the shiver that trickled down my spine. Who knew car theft could be so arousing?
Oh wait. That was Trev who was arousing.
“Sometimes, if you’re lucky, the owner might’ve hidden a spare key somewhere, so you do a little search.” Starting at my shoulders, he ran his hands down my sides as though searching for the elusive hidden key. This was such an excuse to feel me up, but I couldn’t decide if I was annoyed or impressed with his creativity. When his fingers skimmed my hips then started moving down toward my backside I brushed them away. “Okay,” I croaked. “I think they get the point.”
“Is anyone else turned on?” Leanne asked with a touch of humour.
I shot her a playful scowl then looked back to Trev. He was staring down at me in amusement, clearly loving every second of this little demonstration. A woman sitting a few rows down was shooting us disapproving looks, but I was too focused on Trev to be bothered by her.
Trev cleared his throat, and I wondered if he was just as affected right then as I was. Sure, I hadn’t had sex in nearly a year, but it had been a long time for him, too, especially by his standards. “If you can’t find the spare key, then you’ll need to open her up and hotwire the engine.”
“Don’t even go there,” I warned and he laughed, the warm sound heating my insides.
He leaned close to whisper, “I won’t. I think we’ve both had enough fun . . . for now.”
Goosebumps dotted my skin as he looked to Paul. “Like the alarm system, depending on the make and model, hotwiring can be a tricky business.”
“Bet you had your techniques,” I muttered under my breath, moving by him to sit back down in my seat. I needed a glass of iced water, or maybe some chilled red wine would be better. My nerves were frazzled, while my vagina was screaming out for him to do another demo.
She was such an attention whore.
“Did you ever get caught?” Paul asked, intrigued.
“I had a few run-ins, spent a couple nights in the nick, but never prison.”
“Didn’t Karla arrest you once?” I asked curiously.
He shook his head. “Nah, that was Liam, remember? Although she did almost catch me one time. I had my eye on a nice little matte-black Honda and she spotted me from down the street. She gave a good chase, but I’m pretty much impossible to catch. At least I was back then.”
“Your life is so bizarre,” said Leanne, shaking her head in disbelief.
“How do you think I learned to free run?” Trev replied. “It was out of necessity. Coppers like Karla are fast, but they aren’t going to risk breaking their necks to jump off a fifteen-foot wall, or worse, a roof.”
“Your story is so much more impressive than mine. I started freerunning to impress girls,” said Paul.
“We all did it to impress girls,” Callum put in. “Only in Trev’s case it was an added bonus.”
“Not me,” said Isaac. “Back in Joburg, I had to walk through some dangerous areas to get to school. A friend of mine showed me that if I learned to jump across roofs, I could avoid those areas.”
“You see?” said Leanne, eyeing Callum. “Not all men think with their penis. I saw some kids doing it at my local park and knew instantly it was my sport. I could give a shit about impressing anyone, male or female.”
“Some of us can’t be that awesome,” Callum threw back. It wasn’t a compliment, as there was too much bite in his words. They appeared embroiled in a staring match when a woman came down the aisle holding her daughter’s hand. The little girl was probably about three or four years old and wore a big friendly smile when her attention fell on Callum.
“¡Mami mira, tiene dibujos en sus brazos! ¿Por qué tiene dibujos en sus brazos?” she asked, her face alight with curiosity.
“Porque hay gente a la que le gusta dibujarse,” the mother explained with a smile.
The little girl’s big brown eyes widened in fascination, her gaze never leaving Callum. He grew uncomfortable with her attention and his entire body stiffened. He seemed conflicted. Hostile. It was just a little Spanish kid. I guessed some people were weird around children.
“Ven y deja al hombre en paz,” said the mother as she led her daughter further down the aisle.
Callum glanced at me. Someone must’ve told him I spoke Spanish because he asked, “What did she say?”
I was surprised he cared enough to ask, and also by how important it seemed to him to know the answer. I smiled and nodded to his exposed arms. “She asked her mum why you have pictures on your arms.”
“Oh,” he said, looking unsettled. For some reason, Leanne reached across to his seat and gave his elbow a soft squeeze. I knew I had to be missing something, because her face was almost as sombre as Callum’s right then. Their previous battle of wills was completely forgotten. Then, abruptly, he tugged his arm away and stood from his seat, striding down the aisle without a word. Once again, I was completely lost, but I sensed the tension among the group and knew it wouldn’t be wise to ask questions.
“Trev, go talk to him. Please,” Leanne begged, her eyes beseeching.
Trev ran a hand over his jaw and nodded, pushing up out of his seat. I watched him make his way down the aisle after Callum then focused my attention out the window. The atmosphere was stifling and I couldn’t help my curiosity. I wanted to know what was up with them.
About twenty minutes later, Trev and Callum returned to their seats, like nothing had even happened. I kept my attention on the old episode of Black Books I was watching on my phone when Trev pulled out one of my ear buds to stick it in his own ear. I cast him a curious glance
“If an alarm goes off, you deactivate it by cutting the wiring. Like I said, it all depends on the manufacturer.” He made another snipping motion across my chest and I shot him a small glare. He was pushing it now but I couldn’t help the shiver that trickled down my spine. Who knew car theft could be so arousing?
Oh wait. That was Trev who was arousing.
“Sometimes, if you’re lucky, the owner might’ve hidden a spare key somewhere, so you do a little search.” Starting at my shoulders, he ran his hands down my sides as though searching for the elusive hidden key. This was such an excuse to feel me up, but I couldn’t decide if I was annoyed or impressed with his creativity. When his fingers skimmed my hips then started moving down toward my backside I brushed them away. “Okay,” I croaked. “I think they get the point.”
“Is anyone else turned on?” Leanne asked with a touch of humour.
I shot her a playful scowl then looked back to Trev. He was staring down at me in amusement, clearly loving every second of this little demonstration. A woman sitting a few rows down was shooting us disapproving looks, but I was too focused on Trev to be bothered by her.
Trev cleared his throat, and I wondered if he was just as affected right then as I was. Sure, I hadn’t had sex in nearly a year, but it had been a long time for him, too, especially by his standards. “If you can’t find the spare key, then you’ll need to open her up and hotwire the engine.”
“Don’t even go there,” I warned and he laughed, the warm sound heating my insides.
He leaned close to whisper, “I won’t. I think we’ve both had enough fun . . . for now.”
Goosebumps dotted my skin as he looked to Paul. “Like the alarm system, depending on the make and model, hotwiring can be a tricky business.”
“Bet you had your techniques,” I muttered under my breath, moving by him to sit back down in my seat. I needed a glass of iced water, or maybe some chilled red wine would be better. My nerves were frazzled, while my vagina was screaming out for him to do another demo.
She was such an attention whore.
“Did you ever get caught?” Paul asked, intrigued.
“I had a few run-ins, spent a couple nights in the nick, but never prison.”
“Didn’t Karla arrest you once?” I asked curiously.
He shook his head. “Nah, that was Liam, remember? Although she did almost catch me one time. I had my eye on a nice little matte-black Honda and she spotted me from down the street. She gave a good chase, but I’m pretty much impossible to catch. At least I was back then.”
“Your life is so bizarre,” said Leanne, shaking her head in disbelief.
“How do you think I learned to free run?” Trev replied. “It was out of necessity. Coppers like Karla are fast, but they aren’t going to risk breaking their necks to jump off a fifteen-foot wall, or worse, a roof.”
“Your story is so much more impressive than mine. I started freerunning to impress girls,” said Paul.
“We all did it to impress girls,” Callum put in. “Only in Trev’s case it was an added bonus.”
“Not me,” said Isaac. “Back in Joburg, I had to walk through some dangerous areas to get to school. A friend of mine showed me that if I learned to jump across roofs, I could avoid those areas.”
“You see?” said Leanne, eyeing Callum. “Not all men think with their penis. I saw some kids doing it at my local park and knew instantly it was my sport. I could give a shit about impressing anyone, male or female.”
“Some of us can’t be that awesome,” Callum threw back. It wasn’t a compliment, as there was too much bite in his words. They appeared embroiled in a staring match when a woman came down the aisle holding her daughter’s hand. The little girl was probably about three or four years old and wore a big friendly smile when her attention fell on Callum.
“¡Mami mira, tiene dibujos en sus brazos! ¿Por qué tiene dibujos en sus brazos?” she asked, her face alight with curiosity.
“Porque hay gente a la que le gusta dibujarse,” the mother explained with a smile.
The little girl’s big brown eyes widened in fascination, her gaze never leaving Callum. He grew uncomfortable with her attention and his entire body stiffened. He seemed conflicted. Hostile. It was just a little Spanish kid. I guessed some people were weird around children.
“Ven y deja al hombre en paz,” said the mother as she led her daughter further down the aisle.
Callum glanced at me. Someone must’ve told him I spoke Spanish because he asked, “What did she say?”
I was surprised he cared enough to ask, and also by how important it seemed to him to know the answer. I smiled and nodded to his exposed arms. “She asked her mum why you have pictures on your arms.”
“Oh,” he said, looking unsettled. For some reason, Leanne reached across to his seat and gave his elbow a soft squeeze. I knew I had to be missing something, because her face was almost as sombre as Callum’s right then. Their previous battle of wills was completely forgotten. Then, abruptly, he tugged his arm away and stood from his seat, striding down the aisle without a word. Once again, I was completely lost, but I sensed the tension among the group and knew it wouldn’t be wise to ask questions.
“Trev, go talk to him. Please,” Leanne begged, her eyes beseeching.
Trev ran a hand over his jaw and nodded, pushing up out of his seat. I watched him make his way down the aisle after Callum then focused my attention out the window. The atmosphere was stifling and I couldn’t help my curiosity. I wanted to know what was up with them.
About twenty minutes later, Trev and Callum returned to their seats, like nothing had even happened. I kept my attention on the old episode of Black Books I was watching on my phone when Trev pulled out one of my ear buds to stick it in his own ear. I cast him a curious glance
