Chapter 4 Vintage car

Milie's POV

Seeing his car, I couldn't help but laugh wholeheartedly. It wasn't a bike. Not some flashy sports car either. It was an old Ford Mustang.

"Seriously?" I said, trying to hold it in. "You think this is faster than a cab?"

"Don't be so quick to judge," he said calmly, walking around to open the passenger door. "Experience it first."

I narrowed my eyes but got in anyway. "I'm trusting you. But if I'm late for my game, the deal is off."

"Works for me," he said, shutting the door. "That means you don't want to lose our Jenga date either."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be a smartass."

"You make it very easy."

He smirked and slid into the driver's seat, then suddenly leaned closer, way too close.

My breath hitched for a second longer than it should have. "What are you doing?" I snapped.

"Relax," he said, his eyes still on mine as his hand reached past me. "Just making sure you're safe."

His fingers brushed the seatbelt and pulled it across me. 

"Ahhh." I frowned and pushed him lightly. "I know how to wear a seatbelt. Just dri—"

Just then, my phone rang. It was Daxton. 

"Oh God… he must be panicking," I muttered, picking it up immediately.

"Milie, did you leave? Did you find your keys?" His voice came fast. "The team's already warming up. Coach is freaking out."

"I'm coming, I just—"

"Ouch!" The words got cut off as the car shot forward. My body jerked ahead, and before I could slam into anything, Alan's hand flung across my breasts an inch away from touching.

"What the hell! Can’t you warn me, you idiot?" I snapped, shoving his arm away.

"You doubted my car," he said casually. "Just giving you a demo." He giggled. 

"I'm already regretting this."

"I can stop," he said, and just hit the brakes with a screeching sound. The car jerked to a halt.

"Oh my God, such a dramatic you are," I groaned. "Just drive. If I'm late, I swear—"

"Milie?" Daxton's voice came through again.

"Oh shit. I was still on the call." I waved at Alan to keep going and turned back to the phone. "Hey, I'm sorry. Some idiot is trying very hard to ruin my life right now."

I shot Alan a look, miming strangling him. 

"Who are you with? You okay?" Daxton asked, his voice tightening.

"I’m fine. I’ll explain when I get there. It’s a long story. Bye!" I hung up just as the car picked up speed again. I had to grab the seat as my life depended on it.

"Do you always drive like an F1 driver?" I asked.

"What do you think?"

"How would I know? It’s my first time."

"Then you should make it a habit."

I scoffed. "You want me to come with you every day? That's your big plan?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't mind."

I glanced at him. "It’s a bit early to say that. Give it a few days. You might regret my company."

"Let me decide that," he said. "And I thought you weren't the kind of girl who underestimates herself."

"Damn. Why did I downplay myself?"

"I'm not," I quickly covered up. "I was just being polite."

"Wow," he chuckled. "You being polite? That's progress."

I threw him a fake smile. "Shut up and focus on the road."

"What if I don't want to miss this beautiful distraction?"

I turned to glare at him and found him already looking at me—that same stupid, flirty smirk. My heart did something weird, unfamiliar, uncomfortable, which I wasn't used to.

Every guy my Mom had ever introduced me to hadn't tried to know me as a person. They had always judged me based on my appearance, deciding within seconds whether I was worth their time, attractive, worth dating, and beddable. 

But Alan seemed different because the only thing he'd asked for was a game. A stupid Jenga game.

I glanced outside, lost in my thoughts and noticed the route he was taking.

It wasn't the usual one. It was longer, and may have burned more fuel, but he didn't care. 

"If I had taken a cab, I would've definitely been late."

Within fifteen minutes, the car turned into the college lane and came to a smooth stop.

"Check the time," he said, raising a brow. I looked at my phone, right on time.

"Alright, Mr Bragger," I said, unfastening my seatbelt. "You did well. Thanks. Bye."

I stepped out quickly, and so did he, walking right beside me. I stopped and turned. "What are you doing?"

"Going inside," he said casually. "I, too, study here."

I blinked. "What?"

"New transfer."

I stared at him. First neighbor. Now same college. Please… no same class. 

"Wow… I’m surprised," I muttered.

"Be shocked later," he said. "You're getting late."

I nodded and started jogging toward the court. He matched my pace.

"So," he said, "do you play or just carry water bottles?" He asked, pressing his smile. 

I shot him a look. "I'm one of the best players on the team... huh"

He giggled, but as I spotted my boys, I ran straight to them, wrapping my arms around both. "I made it!"

"Go change," Sammy said immediately.

But Daxton didn't move. His eyes were fixed behind me. "Milie… what is he doing with you?"

Alan stepped forward, completely at ease. "I'm the reason she made it on time. Right, Mils?"

My brows shot up. So did Sammy's. I opened my mouth to snap back… but didn't. Instead, I stuck my tongue out at him, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

Weirdly, I don't hate it-'Mils'.

Sammy nudged me. "Something's wrong. No cuss words?"

I rolled my eyes. But we missed Daxton's expression. His jaw had tightened.

"Her name is Milie," Daxton said, stepping forward, his voice colder now, "Milie, what’s going on? Has he blackmailed you for yesterday?" Daxton grabbed his collar, his eyes glowering at him. 

"Whoa, relax, man." I smiled, watching overconfident, swaggering Alan, asking Daxton to calm down. It was when he caught me smiling that I stepped between them, lightly pushing Daxton back. "Dax. He genuinely had helped me."

Then I turned to Alan. "And you… Don't you have a class? Can you leave us alone? 

"No," he said. He reached out and lightly messed up my hair. I froze. "I’ll watch your game, and leave."

"What? No—why?" I asked, suddenly aware of everything.

"Why not?" he smirked. "You think I'll distract you?"

"Enough, Mr. Bragger," I said, forcing a fake smile. "Just leave."

"She said leave," Daxton cut in sharply, stepping closer, but the coach's whistle diverted everyone.

"Milie!" Sammy snapped. "You wanna play or sit out?"

"Coming!" I turned to run when—

"Coach!" Alan suddenly called out. The coach stopped, confused.

I looked back. "Now what?"

He walked closer, eyes still on me. "Go change. I'll keep him busy."

He winked, and for some reason, I felt my cheeks warm. Before I could process it, he ruffled my hair again… this time softer with a warm smile.

And my heart fluttered again.