Chapter 7

Danielle

FRIDAY AFTERNOON, I laid the last piece of paper in the last stack of grading I'd been putting off for a week and sat back in my chair. Checking my watch, I groaned. I was probably the last person left in the school and with another early morning, I was exhausted. But at least now I was caught up and could enjoy my weekend.

Opening my desk drawer, I grabbed my purse just as my new phone jingled. I found it buried in the bottom of my bag and answered it without checking the ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, babe."

I frowned. "Austin?"

He chuckled. "Your car's fixed."

"But I haven't had a chance to talk to my dad yet." I rubbed my forehead, my sleepless nights and money worries manifesting themselves into a wicked headache. "I have to see if he's okay with the amount. Don't most places have to get authorization to do repairs beforehand? What if I can't pay for them? Crap, Austin, I don't know if I can pay you. I thought you were going to call me yesterday. I need more time to figure this out."

"Babe, take a breath," he said.

I did, but found I needed to take a few more.

"The car's fixed," he continued. "No charge."

"What? What do you mean, 'no charge'?"

"Generally, it means that currency in the form of money won't be exchanging hands."

"You're funny." I couldn't stop a smile. "But the sad fact is that I don't have five-thousand dollars and I don't really feel comfortable asking my dad for it. He's bailed me out too often over the past few years."

Austin sighed. "Babe. It's covered."

"Explain to me exactly how it's covered. What do you want in return?"

"We can talk about it when I drop your car off."

"I knew it," I snapped. "Forget it. You can keep it."

I hung up and threw my phone in my purse, my sleepiness leaving my body faster than it had arrived. Seething, I grabbed my purse and jacket, and headed out of my classroom through the outside door. I locked up, passed by the office, and waved to the janitor who was grabbing the trash from the front of the school.

I needed to walk. My apartment was about three miles from the school and not having a car was a good excuse to walk off my anger and maybe a few calories as well. I'd been lazy of late and had gained close to thirty pounds after Steven's betrayal. I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself and do something about my weight. I texted my brother and told him I didn't need a ride again and then headed toward home.

The temperature had dropped since lunchtime, so I zipped up my coat, shoved my hands in my pockets and put my head down against the wind. I had gone about a block when I regretted my decision to walk home in the cold.

I no longer wanted to lose weight. I wanted to soak in a hot tub with a glass of wine. This thought brought to light the fact that I didn't have a tub worthy of soaking anymore, which then reminded me I also didn't own a car anymore, which led me down the rabbit hole of anger and irritation at the drop-dead gorgeous man who'd interrupted my plan. I was getting my life back... at least I was trying to, but now Austin wanted to mess with that plan. I had to figure out a way to come up with the money without asking my dad.

The large fir trees that lined the private drive leading to my apartment came into view and I sighed with relief. I was home. I would call my brother and work out a game plan. He'd know what to do.

I turned down the road and quickened my steps. I was now officially freezing and wanted to get inside and wrap myself in a blanket. The parking lot came into view... and so did my car. I stopped walking, confused. Movement out of the corner of my eye had me turning to see Austin climbing from his truck.

He frowned. "Did you walk home, Dani?"

"Huh?"

"Did you walk home? Alone?"

I looked up at him. "Um, yeah. I don't have a car."

"Fuck." He shook his head. "Did you walk yesterday as well?"

"No, my brother has been driving me, but—"

"Here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out my car key.

I shook my head. "I can't pay for it, Austin."

"Take the key, Dani." I did and he swore again. "Babe, your hand is like ice."

"Generally happens when it's cold."

"You don't own gloves?"

"I didn't bring them, on account of the fact I didn't expect to be walking home," I admitted.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Why would I call you?"

He took both of my hands in his and rubbed them together. "I would have picked you up."

"Why would you have picked me up?"

Austin frowned again. "Let's get you inside."

"Wait," I said, trying to pull my hands from his. He just held them tighter. "What are you doing here?"

"Babe." He looked at me like I was touched in the head. "I'm bringing you your car."

"I feel like you and I are having a huge failure to communicate," I grumbled.

He waved his hand toward my apartment. "Let's talk inside."

"You're coming inside?"

"Not talkin' to you out here in the cold." He gave me his sexy smile. "'Course, we don't have to talk at all. Up to you."

I let out a quiet huff. "I don't know what you want from me."

"Come on. Let's get you warm," he said.

I had a feeling he wasn't going to leave, so I nodded and led him upstairs. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside and turned on the light. Austin closed and locked the door behind us and I shrugged out of my coat. He threw his jacket on the chair by the television, but kept his vest on.

"Why don't you talk like a thug?" I blurted out.

He chuckled. "I'm sorry?"

"Nothing. Just ignore me." I dropped my purse on the chair by the door. "Do you want some wine?"

"Got beer?"

"Um, maybe. I'll look." I stepped into the kitchen to see if Elliot had left anything the last time he'd come for dinner. I pushed the milk to the side and found three bottles of my brother's favorite Portland brew, hoping Austin would like it. I grabbed one, opened it, and then poured the last of the red I'd been drinking over the past few days into a glass.

I walked back into the living room to find Austin lounging on my sofa, his booted feet up on my coffee table, television remote in his hand, flipping through stations and looking like he owned the place. He smiled at me and reached out his hand to take the beer. "Thanks, babe."

I handed him the bottle and shook my head as I sat in the chair next to the sofa.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

He patted the cushion next to him. "Come here."

"Um, no, I'm good right here. Thanks," I said, and sipped my wine.

"Babe, come here."

"No."