“God damnit Ten.”
“What has the number Ten done to you to deserve such blasphemy?” Carlos kids.
See. He’s charming too. What is wrong with me? Why did I flip the off switch on him and how do I turn it back on?
“Ten is Tenley. My cousin I live with.”
“The one who picks you up sometimes?”
I nod. “Only not today apparently. She just bailed.”
LIV: WTF am I supposed to do?
TENLEY: Uber? I’ll pay! In fact. I’ll order. Gimme the addy.
Uber. The idea spikes my anxiety instantly. I do not want to get into a car with a stranger right now, especially because every Uber driver I've ever had has been male. I know I'm overreacting to this attack, letting it affect my daily life, but… I can’t help it.
“I can drive you wherever you need to go.”
I look up into Carlos’ friendly brown eyes. My gaze shifts to the minivan he drives, which he inherited from his grandma. “Where do you live again? I don’t want to put you out. I’m not going home. I’m headed to Venice to my cousins.”
“I live in Manhattan Beach so I’m heading that way anyway,” he replies. “If you were heading back to West Hollywood it would be out of the way, but I would insist on driving you anyway.”
I am an idiot for not being attracted to him anymore. I total brain-dead idiot. "Thanks, Carlos. I owe you."
The drive is painless. Comfortable even. We laugh a lot and even get a chance to talk through the quiz we’re planning so we’re both on the same page and have gotten a ton of work done by the time he pulls onto Tate and Mallory’s street. “Whoa. Someone is having a party.”
Carlos eyes all the cars lining the side of the road and the catering truck in Tate’s driveway. “My cousin. He is hosting his teammates before the start of the season.”
“He plays hockey, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry. I know nothing about hockey. I’m a football fan,” Carlos explains. “The American and British kind.”
There’s a tap on the glass of the passenger window beside my head and I not only jump but squeak. Carlos puts a hand on my knee, meant as a friendly comfort, I’m sure, but judging by the look in Crew’s eyes he’s taking it as something much more.
Carlos rolls down the window from the controls on his door. “Hey.”
Crew doesn’t even glance at Carlos. His eyes are glued to me. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I saw you and thought you were with Tenley or one of your other hundred relatives.”
“I… no this is Carlos. I work with him. And go to school with him.” I turn to Carlos and try to smile but it feels wrong. Tight. “Carlos this is Crew Westwood. He plays with my cousin Tate.”
“Hockey. Plays hockey,” Crew adds, and I laugh too loudly.
Carlos moves his hand from my knee to reach across me toward the open window to shake Crew’s hand. Crew shakes like it’s not a big deal but his expression is tense and dark. Like he’s… jealous? No. No way. Couldn’t be.
“Nice to meet you,” Carlos says. “I was just delivering Liv to her party.”
“Thank you. I’ll email you when I have the quiz ready for proofing,” I say and scramble like a feral raccoon to get my seatbelt off, grab my shoulder bag, and open the car door. I do it all so fast that I actually smack Crew in the forehead with the door because he was still leaning into the window. He falls backward onto the grass between the road and the sidewalk, swearing.
I leap from the car and stare down at him while he rubs his forehead. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry!”
“Yeah. Fine,” he grumbles.
Carlos must have been worried about him too because he's turned off the engine and got out of the car. He's standing right beside me. "Dude. That looked brutal. Are you sure you're okay?"
“Yeah. I’ve been concussed before and this ain’t it,” Crew replies and ignores Carlos’ outstretched hand. He gives me a quick glare as he hauls himself to his feet.