Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

T he whole next day is like a fairy tale. I am in such a good mood despite my professor's response to my project. I feel like I'm floating. Hell, when I got in the night before, I was kicking and squealing like a fucking schoolboy again, which prompted Tommy to chuck a pillow at my head.

We texted nearly all night, and despite my exhaustion, it was worth it.

As if my thoughts make it happen, my phone buzzes.

Alek: What time do you finish today?

Evan: In about half an hour.

I glance at the board and type out some notes, all while holding my phone with my other hand, waiting for his response.

Alek: I'll meet you out front. Let's go for a drive.

Evan: What about work or Alice?

Alek: Do you want to go to the river or not, rich boy?

I can't help but smile, and I press my lips together to hide it as I type back.

Evan: Fine, princess, see you then.

Alek: Keep it up, rich boy.

Evan: Or what? *Winky face*

My heart beats fast, and my smile is so wide I can't contain it.

Alek: Or you'll regret calling me princess.

Evan: We both know I'd like it. Now stop distracting me, princess.

I send a picture of my lecture for meaning.

Alek: *Image*

A photo comes through, and he's reclining in his car seat with his eyebrow arched. I can see the parking lot behind him, and it sends butterflies soaring through me. He's already here, waiting for me. Does that mean he was already on campus and texted me, hoping to see me?

Fuck. Now I really can't focus. In fact, I don't hear a word that's said for the next thirty minutes, and when it's over, I hurry to my feet.

"Evvie, want to hang—" Tommy starts.

"Can't, busy. Sorry. Love you. Bye." I stuff my shit in my bag, and I'm out of the door after waving in under a minute.

I get outside so fast, I'm panting, and I see his car idling. He's leaning against it, completely ignoring the girls watching him, and for a moment, I'm awestruck by how hot he is before his eyebrow arches impatiently. I cover the distance quickly, and he opens the door for me. I slide in, noticing his hand above my head so I don't hit it, and those damn butterflies start again as he shuts it and rounds the hood, getting in and revving the engine.

"Alice?" I ask as he lays his arm across the back of my seat, his fingers tracing over my neck. He watches me before looking back and reversing, but even once we are out on the road, he keeps his hand there, and slowly, his long fingers curl around the nape of my neck, holding it possessively. The warm claim makes me swallow hard. "Alek?" My voice is rough.

"She's staying late. She has an assignment that's due, so it's just you and me. Is that a problem, rich boy?"

"Not at all," I reply, leaning into his touch. He glances at me for a moment, and his grip tightens before he focuses on the road. "Where are we going?"

"I want to show you something," is all he says. I relax in my seat and stare out of the window, letting him drive me wherever he wants.

About thirty minutes later, we roll through a downtown area. The shops are just shutting down, the lights turning off for the night. Alek seems to know where he's going, and once we turn down a side road, he pulls up to a double-shutter door of a black, one-story, brick building.

"Huh?" I question, but he hits a button, and the garage door rolls up. He waits until it's open all the way and slowly drives in before turning the engine off and looking at me. As we are plunged into darkness, I hear the crank of the shutter going down behind us, sealing us in. "What, are you planning to fuck or kill me here?"

"You wish." He smirks, but it drops quickly, and his eyes lower to my lips. He leans closer, but bright lights suddenly turn on, and we both jump apart.

Laughing, I climb from the car and look around, blinking in surprise.

"What is this place?" I ask as he leans against his car, watching me. It's big enough for two cars, his usual and a shiny, low one next to us. There's a seating area in the back with a TV, radio, leather sofas, and fridge. A wooden staircase leads up to a small loft, which I can't see into from here, and there's a sliding door at the back that's partially open to show me a bathroom.

"This is my workshop. When I'm not working at the garage, I'm here, working on my cars," he admits. "Come on." He turns to keep me in view as I wander. "I've never brought anyone here before, not even Alice."

I whirl around to see him, my gaze moving from the graffiti on the walls to him. "And why's that, princess? Why did you bring me here?"

Something about calling this big, tattooed bastard a princess and getting away with it is addictive. It's like a shared secret, and despite his protests, I can tell he secretly likes it. I even set the picture of him eating the dessert as my screensaver. He hates it, but it's so fucking cute.

He watches me for a moment. "I wanted to share it with you," is all he says, but it's enough.

Alek is trying to let me in, and showing me this, his safe space, is a big step. It's clear it's his passion, something I was searching for. Is that why he brought me here?

I could let it go, but something tells me now is the time to push, so I don't stop until I stand before him. I tilt my head back to meet his unsure gaze. "Why did you bring me here, Alek?"

"Because it's important and so are you," he whispers. "Because I want you to know me the way nobody else does. I want you to see that I'm more than just an angry thug."

My heart aches for him. Reaching out, I take his hand. "Then show me that side nobody else gets to see. Let me see you, Alek Anders, because I have a feeling you are a lot more than an angry thug. I have a feeling that you're as beautiful inside as you are on the outside."

I watch Alek work. At first, he was nervous, and he kept glancing at me, but he's relaxed now, and it's enjoyable watching him tune up his car. He told me his Skyline is his race car, and he even let me sit in it. I just observe him quietly until he gets annoyed—or more like embarrassed.

"Stop watching me, rich boy. Do homework or something," he mutters, but his cheeks are hot.

"But this view is so much better," I flirt, pulling out my laptop and stretching my legs out on the sofa. I pull up the image of him. I can still see him over my laptop, and both views only make me that much hotter. I can't stop smiling, but I do as I'm told. I edit the photo, knowing it's rough, but there's something about it that captivates me. It's imperfectly perfect, just like him. It's dark shades of gray but so mesmerizing it nearly hurts.

Time passes comfortably like this, both of us working, just happy to be together. When I shut my laptop, he glances over and shuts the hood. He wipes his hand on a rag and heads my way, sitting on the coffee table and leaning into me. "What are you going to take photos of now? Have you decided?" he asks, no doubt remembering my confession yesterday.

I have a feeling there isn't much that Alek Anders forgets.

"I have decided," I admit as I glance at him. He might hate it and turn me down, but I can't stop myself from speaking. "I want to take pictures of you."

He recoils, blinking. "Me?" He looks down at himself. "I'm not really model material, rich boy."

Laughing, I lean back into the leather. "The professor told me to take pictures of something I'm passionate about." I tilt my head, running my eyes over him. "That's you," I state without an ounce of shame.

His eyes widen, and he stares, frozen. Grinning, I sit up and slide to the floor on my knees between his parted legs. I place my hands on his thighs as I sit up so my face is level with his. "May I, Alek? May I take pictures of you?"

He swallows, glancing at my lips. "Evan," he warns.

"Be my muse," I murmur as I lean in, nearly pressing my lips to his. "Please." I feel his resolve weakening, and even though I know it's cheap, I kiss him softly. I want to convince him and, well, kiss him. I have since the moment I saw him leaning against his car, so I take my shot. He doesn't push me away, but he doesn't touch me either. He just lets me kiss him, and when I pull back slightly, his eyes are closed.

"Say yes, princess," I demand as I lean in once more like I'm going to kiss him again, "and I'll show my gratitude any way you want."

I feel him wavering, and his head moves ever so slightly, but it's enough so his lips brush mine. I pull back, and he chases me. "Say yes and you can kiss me all you want."

"Evan," he snaps, and his hand cups the back of my head, yanking me closer until my lips crush against his. I relax into his grip, my eyes fluttering closed. It's demanding and rough until it softens, and then his lips just brush against mine, leaving lingering kisses as if he can't resist. I know the feeling.

My hands curl into his chest, pulling him closer. I push up from my knees and straddle his lap. His hands drop to my hips, holding me, and then I kiss him back, sliding my tongue between his parted lips. He gasps, pressing my hard body against his. I can feel his length hardening against mine as I groan, sliding my hands up to grip his shoulders as I rub against him until I have to pull back to breathe.

"Yes," he whispers roughly as I blink, bringing his dark eyes into view. Everything else is forgotten.

"Huh?" I respond, my eyes on his lips, wanting them on me again.

He chuckles darkly. "Yes, rich boy, you can take my picture."

"I can?" I stutter over the words, trying to remember why that's important, but it's not nearly as important as getting his lips back on mine.

One of his hands slides up my back, gripping the nape of my neck as he tugs me closer again and crushes his lips to mine in a hard, swift kiss. "Yes, rich boy, you can take my picture." He stands, lifting me effortlessly. He only has one arm around me, yet he carries me like I'm weightless. "Get your camera before I change my mind." His eyes darken as they drop to my lips. "Or I decide I need more convincing, and I let you do what I see in your eyes." He lowers me down his body until my feet hit the floor.

"Now, Evan," he orders when I just stare.

Camera. Right.

Pictures.

Fuck.

Who really convinced whom then?