Chapter 180 First and last date
Chapter 180 First and last date
Elara’s POV,
“Okay,” I say, resting one elbow against the window as the little Beetle rattles down the road like it has one foot in the scrapyard already. “Favourite food.”
The corners of Lucien’s mouth twitch.
“We’re doing twenty questions?”
“We’re doing twenty questions,” I confirm. “It’s either that or we sit in awkward silence pretending this isn’t weird as shit.”
He hums thoughtfully.
“Pizza, I guess.”
“Liar.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Pizza is nobody’s favourite food.”
“Fine.” He sighs. His next word comes so quickly it almost startles me. “Blini.”
He looks away immediately, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink, and I grin so hard my cheeks hurt.
“Aww, you’re just a kid after all.” I tilt my head, openly studying him, and he scowls. “I genuinely thought you’d say something like steak.”
“No.” He wrinkles his nose. “Not steak. I’m vegan.”
I choke so violently on my own saliva that I have to smack my chest.
“What?!”
He glances sideways without looking remotely guilty.
“You must not be very observant.”
“I never claimed to be, but what?!” I stare at him in disbelief. “How?”
“What do you mean, how?”
“You kill people for a living!”
“I outsource.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nikolai does the torturing.” He shrugs as though discussing office responsibilities. “I can’t stand human screaming.”
I blink.
“...Wow, we’re really learning about each other.”
His laugh is quiet, almost embarrassed.
“Okay, my turn.” He drums his fingers lazily against the steering wheel. “What’s your favourite thing about me?”
Everything, except your lies. The thought comes so naturally that it terrifies me. I swallow it before it reaches my mouth.
“Uh…” I pretend to think. “Your smile?”
He looks genuinely offended.
“Seriously?”
“Okay, fine.” I tilt my head with a smirk. “I love how you can make me wet just by looking at me.”
He lets out a long-suffering groan and drops his forehead onto the steering wheel.
“Jesus Christ.” His voice comes out muffled. “I thought we agreed to keep things R-rated.”
“We are.” I bite my lip so I won’t laugh. My eyes drift downward for exactly one second before I grin. “That looks painful.”
“You witch,” he sneers, his grip painfully tight on the wheel.
“That too,” I point at him. “I love when you call me that.”
His tongue runs absently across his lower lip.
“Oh.”
I point again.
“And that.”
He rolls his eyes with a helpless laugh.
“And that!”
“Okay.” He leans back dramatically in his seat. “Say one more nice thing and my heart’s going to burst right out of my chest.”
I laugh harder than I’ve ever done.
“My turn.”
He gestures grandly.
“Proceed.”
“What’s the most sensitive part of your body?” I pause deliberately. “Besides that, obviously.”
He suddenly reaches over with one hand, gripping my thigh firmly. His fingers squeeze just enough to make me inhale sharply.
“You’re awfully brave when there’s a gear shift between us.”
His voice drops until it brushes against my skin.
“Why don’t you keep talking and see how long it takes before I decide that driving is less important than making you scream for me in the passenger seat?”
Every coherent thought evaporates, and I stare straight ahead so fast my neck almost cracks. He smiles like the devil himself.
“My toes.”
I blink.
“What?”
“My toes.” He keeps driving as though he hasn’t just derailed my entire nervous system. “Although, if you’re asking because you’re planning to overpower or kill me one day…” He taps the back of his own head. “…then here.”
I finally manage to look at him again.
“What?”
“You asked for the most sensitive part of my body.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “That. Your head.”
“Yes.”
“Got it.”
God.
I hate how easily he steals control back. One second I’m teasing him. The next I’m wondering what would happen if he actually pulled over—
“Uh oh.”
The words have barely left his mouth before the Beetle coughs once, sputters dramatically, and dies right in the middle of the road.
Silence.
The headlights remain on.
The engine does not.
I blink slowly.
“What...” I turn toward him. “Just... happened?”
Lucien turns to me, wearing the most apologetic smile I have ever seen on a human being.
I simply glare.
“It appears the car has…”
“Lucien.” I grit out. “We are in the middle of the road.”
“Trust me, it’s a glitch.”
Then I look out the windshield at the growing line of vehicles behind us.
A horn blares.
Another answers it.
Then another.
Within seconds, it’s an entire orchestra. I slowly turn back to my date.
“Oh my God…” I enunciate every syllable as though speaking to a particularly slow child. “You stole a broken car.”
Lucien grimace.
“It wasn’t brok—”
“You stole a broken car!” I throw both hands into the air. “Is this the appropriate moment to say I told you so? Because I feel like this is exactly the appropriate moment to say I told you so.”
“It wasn’t broken,” he insists, offended on behalf of the Beetle. “Besides, it had everything a car was supposed to have.”
“Four wheels?” I fold my arms. “That is the absolute bare minimum requirement for being classified as a car, Lucien.”
He scratches the back of his neck.
“In hindsight…”
“In hindsight?!” My voice climbs another octave. “You kidnapped some poor grandfather’s Beetle and didn’t even check whether it actually worked?”
“It worked when I stole it!”
“That doesn’t make it better!”
“It wasn’t supposed to die!”
“Well, it picked a terrible fucking time to develop stage fright!”
“So what’s your solution?”
“My solution?” I laugh in disbelief. “You are asking me? You’re the criminal here!”
“Gee, try being optimistic!”
“Stop yelling at me!”
“You’re yelling!”
“You started yell—”
HONKKKKKKK!!
A man leans halfway out of the SUV behind us.
“MOVE THE DAMN CAR!”
Lucien slowly rolls down his window with an expression so calm it worries me.
“Thanks for the fucking idea!”
“People have lives to get back to, asshole!”
“So do I!”
“Well, clearly not!”
Lucien nods thoughtfully, rolls the window back up, then he turns to me with complete seriousness.
“Darling, open the front pocket and hand me the gun.”
I stare.
“Not funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Lucien, you are not shooting someone because your stolen car died on our first date.”
Lucien snickers, “I like the way that sounds, Our First date.”
“Our first and last date.”
“I swear, you wouldn’t die if you were optimistic.”
“My apologies,” I clasp my hands and give him a fake smile. “I am absolutely positive this is our first and last date.”
He nods, “Baby steps.”
Before either of us can continue, blue and amber lights flash behind the line of traffic, and my heart sinks.
“Oh, fantastic.”
Lucien sighs.
“Look what your attitude caused.”
“My attitude?” I sputter. “You motherfu—”