A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) (19 page)

“See,” my dad says, looking at me with a huge smile on his face. “You go on now, have fun on your date, we’ll take care of Presley.”

“Hi,” Hannah suddenly says and, honest to god, I forgot she was sitting here, nestled into my side, under my arm. “I’m Hannah,” she waves at Presley.

Presley manages to smile at her and says, “Hey.”

I don’t like the look on her face. I don’t like that she just ran her eyes over Hannah and then looked down at herself with a sad scowl. I don’t like how she just tucked her legs under herself and crossed an arm over her body like she’s trying to hide. But I’m done trying to talk sense into her. I’m done trying to convince her that she’s gorgeous. I’m done trying to make her see that cookie cutter, vanilla, conventionally beautiful girls like Hannah don’t compare to her. That’s Angel’s job now.

I stand, then grab Hannah’s hand, helping her up. “We’ll see you guys later,” I tell them. My dad and Nate are both looking at me with amusement. Presley’s not looking at me at all, she’s got her eyes glued to the floor. I bury my desire to go to her, pull her into my arms and spew all kinds of pointless flowery crap to her and instead, pull Hannah to the door as she tells them it was nice meeting them all.

After the door shuts I tell her, “Sorry. That was totally awkward.”

She laughs. “You’re family’s… interesting.”

I help her into the driver’s side of her Jetta and take a minute to breathe as I head to my door.

She pulls down my driveway and onto the road before saying, “So, who’s the girl?”

“Presley?” I ask, like she could be talking about any number of girls.

“Yeah. Is she a family friend?”

“No. Not really. I go to school with her and we’re partners in a photography class so she has to take pictures of my life or whatever.”

“Huh,” she says. “Should I feel bad that I’m stealing you away from her?” she glances over at me with a nervous smile.

“Of course not. They’ll have more fun with me gone. And for sure, I’d rather be hanging out with you,” I tell her, relying heavily on my smile and flirting skills in order to deflect any signs that I’m totally lying.

“So… what’s been keeping you so busy? Do you play basketball?”

“Ah, no. I race cars.”

“Really?” she asks with confusion. “I didn’t know people around here did that.”

“It’s kind of an underground thing. We street race.”

“Oh. Like, just for fun?”

“It’s fun, but we take it pretty seriously.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Hmm,” she says skeptically. “Is that something I could maybe see?”

“You want to come to a race?”

“Sure?”

“Yeah. I mean anyone can come. I think Summer will be at the next one – you could probably go with her.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She sounds disappointed like she wanted me to invite her to come with me. But that’s not happening. I stop myself from thinking that Presley might be there with me. I need to let that shit go.

Hannah pulls up to the restaurant which has valet because we’re at the damn country club where her father’s a member. We get out of the car and she hands her keys to the valet guy. He smiles at her then glares at me.
Whatever, man.

She’s obviously a regular here since the hostess greets her by name and brings us to a cozy booth in the corner.

We stare at each other and I realize how far off my game I am tonight. I force myself to reach across the table and grab a hold of her hand. “You look really beautiful.” And that’s not a lie. She’s beautiful. There’s no doubt about it. And if Presley hadn’t showed up at my house I would maybe be totally into this date.

“Thanks. You look really good too.”

I laugh. “I clean up okay, huh?”

“You looked really good in your t-shirt too,” she tells me, biting her lip, referring to the only other time we were together at a sports bar in her town. I was in a mood that night which was good because it meant I was a gentleman – hugged her goodnight, but that was it.

“You looked good in your jeans too, but I really like this dress.”

She blushes. It’s cute. “Thanks.”

The waitress shows up so I take my hands from Hannah’s and order a Coke and she orders some fancy water. “So what’s good here?” I ask, opening my menu after the waitress is gone.

“Haven’t you eaten here before?” she asks.

“Only at the football banquets but they just bring the food to us. There’s no ordering.”

“I remember you from the last game you played against us. You were an absolute beast,” she tells me.

I glance up at her and give her my smile before going back to my menu. “Summer said you cheer for North?”

“Yep. I’ll be cheering for the University of Alabama in the fall.”

“So you’re good?” I assume since she got a position on the cheer squad for a division one team. 

She gives me a humble smile. “I try.”

“You must do more than try. That’s a big deal.”

“Fine. I work my ass off and I’m really good at what I do.”

I laugh, “That’s better.”

“What about you? Where are you going in the fall?”

I hate this question. It’s so expected and annoying. “Nowhere,” I tell her with a smile.

She laughs, until she realizes I’m serious. “Really? But why?”

“I like Carver.”

She looks completely baffled. “Couldn’t you have gotten an athletic scholarship?”

“I suppose.”

She’s staring at me with a shocked look on her face. I suck in a breath and say, “So the prime rib or the sirloin?”

She finally takes her judgmental eyes off me and looks at the menu. “I don’t really know, I always get the fish or a salad, but my dad usually orders the sirloin.”

“Sounds good,” I say, shutting my menu and pushing it off to the side. The waitress shows up with our drinks and takes our order. I grab a hold of Hannah’s hand again and tell myself I’m gonna give it a shot with this girl.

“So why don’t you have a boyfriend? The guys at North aren’t cutting it?”

She laughs. “I guess. I mean, none of the guys at my school look like you.” She blushes again and bites her lip and I smile without even having to force it. “But I’ve always been really busy with cheer and dance and never really had the time. But now that I know where I’m going to school and the pressure’s off, I can relax a little… enjoy myself.”

“That’s good,” I tell her. “If you want, I’m pretty good at helping people enjoy themselves.”

She chokes on her designer water and I have to hold back my laugh. “Not what I meant,” I tell her. “I mean, I suppose it could be at a later date, after we’ve gotten to know each other. But I just meant, you know, I’m a pretty fun guy to hang out with.”

“Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed,” she tells me, bringing her free hand to her mouth and dabbing away the water. “Of course that’s not what you meant.”

I smile at her. This is refreshing, being someone new, someone without a past as far as she knows. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. I might have to make a habit out of this.”

“Embarrassing me? Oh my gosh, please don’t. You already make me nervous enough, I don’t want to have to worry about being embarrassed too.”

“I make you nervous?” I ask her bringing out the full blown panty dropper smile.

She looks down at the table, then peeks up at me through her lashes and whispers, “Yes. You know you do.”

“You make me nervous, too,” I tell her although it’s not true. The opposite really – she makes me feel confident and sure of myself because she’s so easy to manipulate. Which, I know, is an asshole thing to think and I’m not trying to manipulate her but she’s so easy to read. Five minutes after meeting her the first time I knew exactly what to say and do to get the reactions I want from her. In fact, it’s like a little game that I’m playing just to keep my self entertained and interested in this date.
Fuck.

“Why would I make you nervous?” she asks, fishing for a compliment, which I’ll give her.

“You know why. You’re stunning.”

She rolls her eyes but there’s no conviction behind it, not like Presley’s impressive eye rolls for example. “I am not.” She doesn’t believe that- it’s blatantly obvious. I know her type. People have been telling her every day of her life how beautiful she is.  But beautiful people love to have their egos stroked. I should know.

“Of course you are. I bet you’re the most beautiful girl at your school.”

She gives me a coy smile and shrugs her shoulders. “Not really.”

“You don’t have to be so modest. You know you are.”

The waitress shows up with our food and I’m relieved. I was starting to get a little nauseous there for a second.

I dig into my steak, making small talk with her as she takes dainty bites of her salmon. She’s not like anyone I’ve dated or been interested in. She’s proper and polite. She’s nice and sweet. She’s boring the hell out of me.

When dinner’s over, we order coffee and chocolate cake which she takes one small bite of before passing it over to me. I gladly devour it then flag the waitress down for the bill, grateful that I got paid last weekend and trying not to be pissed that I have to blow part of it on this date.

“We don’t have to pay,” Hannah whispers when she realizes why I’m calling the waitress over. “My dad’s a member… we just put it on his tab.”

“Seriously?” I ask her.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t ask you to bring me here expecting you to pay. This place is outrageous,” she says with a smile, and I like her a little more. The waitress does bring over a tab which Hannah signs.

“You ready to go?” I ask her.

“I guess we probably should. We’ll have to go out again sometime when it’s not a school night.”

I help her out of the booth and tell her. “For sure. Summer made it sound like you have a pretty busy schedule.”

“Yeah, I do. But, we don’t have any competitions this weekend so I’m free on Saturday?”

We head outside and her car is already waiting for us. The valet guy, who obviously has a huge hard on for her, helps her in. “I have a race on Saturday,” I tell her when we’re both in the car. “If you want to come we can hang out after.”

Her face lights up. “Yeah, I would really love that.”

When we pull up to my house, Presley’s mom’s Volvo is still parked outside. “You want to come in?” I ask because it seems like the right thing to do.

“Um,” she looks up at my house like she’s thinking about it and I panic for a minute but then she says, “I better not. It’s getting pretty late.”

I’m relieved. “Okay. Next time maybe.”

“Sure,” she tells me, turning in her seat a little and looking at me with apprehension.

I reach over and wrap my fingers around her neck, pulling her mouth towards mine. “I had a really good time tonight,” I tell her.

“Me too,” she whispers right before I take her lips in mine. Her breath hitches and I can feel her lip trembling between mine. It’s a rush. It always is – feeling the way I can affect women. I kiss her thoroughly but don’t linger. Pulling away, I run the pad of my thumb over her mouth and enjoy the drunken look on her face.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” she breaths as I exit the car.

I walk away, turning once to raise a hand. She’ll be thinking about that kiss for days and when I see her again she’ll be eager. It’s way too easy to turn a good girl into a bad one.

I open the door and see Presley still in Dad’s recliner looking all at home. Turning a girl that’s bad for me into something good is a little more difficult. I slam the door shut and my dad and brother look at me for a second before turning their attention back to the TV.

Presley clears her throat uncomfortably, sets down the damn bowl of popcorn that’s in her lap and stands. “I didn’t realize how late it is,” she says, looking at her wrist like there’s a watch there, which there isn’t.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Nick asks her.

“I should get home.”

“You don’t gotta leave just because he’s here,” he tells her, glaring at me.

She finally looks at me for more than a second and says, “Yeah, I do.”

“Yeah, she does,” I agree. I’m pissed at her. And it’s annoying how she can treat me like an asshole around her friends but then borrow my family for the damn night and play my dad like she’s some sweet, innocent, lost little girl. It’s complete bullshit.

“What the hell is going on with the two of you?” my dad asks, suddenly standing between us, his head swinging from side to side as he waits for an answer which neither of us are giving him. “Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Nate and I are gonna head out to the garage and the two of you are gonna behave like adults and talk about whatever the hell climbed up your asses.” With that he’s gone and shockingly, my brother follows him.

I shake my head at this new version of Nick that I don’t recognize, then grab a beer and sit my ass on the couch. “You want to tell me what the hell you did to make him like you so damn much?” I ask, not looking at her. “Clearly he hasn’t met the uptight, judgmental version of you who’s too good to be hanging around a Carter in public.”