“So,” I say, “I could scratch it or something.” Wrapping my arms around myself, I eye the fob hanging from his tattooed finger. “And I thought you didn’t let anyone drive the Rover?”
His smile morphs from playful to soft, and his blue eyes seem to search mine for a moment. “You’re not anyone, Nora.”
My insides are so fluttery from his words that I don’t resist when he takes my hand and places the fob in my palm.
“But first, disguises.”
Blinking, I come out of my brief stupor. “Disguises?”
Dex is already heading toward the closet in the entryway. He pulls it open, and I drift closer as he rummages through it. He produces two ball caps, one of which he reaches over and slips onto my head.
“What is this?” I laugh a little, then watch the muscles in his forearms flex as he pulls the ball cap over his blond hair, mesmerized by the tendons moving just under his skin.
“I’ll get followed otherwise.” The joyfulness is gone from his voice, and he reaches into the closet once more to pull out a bulky bomber jacket and a simple gray hoodie. “Here.”
This time when he offers me the hoodie, I don’t ask questions. I should’ve known he can’t freely go out into public; now I feel careless for laughing at him. But he doesn’t seem too bothered, slipping his arms into the sleeves and zipping the jacket up halfway. When he sees I’ve not yet put the hoodie on, he pauses.
“Is that okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” I pull the cap off, then quickly tug the hoodie over my head. Instantly, I’m enveloped in Dex’s smell, and it makes me imagine the soft fabric up against his skin. My cheeks go warm, so I quickly drop my head and busy myself putting my sneakers back on.
How can a hoodie make me want to melt inside?
Shoes snugly on my feet, I finally look up at him, and he’s staring at me.
“What?” I glance down at myself. My frayed shorts are hidden beneath the baggy hoodie, and the ball cap casts a shadow over my eyes. When I look back up, Dex is giving me that small smile again, the one that looks partway happy and partway confused. I’m not sure what it means yet.
“Nothing. Let’s go.”
We head back out into the night, but this time I’m the one getting in on the Rover’s driver’s side. My hands shake as I buckle the seat belt and adjust the seat and mirror for my height. Dex must see it, because he takes my hand and presses it to his mouth, his lip ring warm against my skin.
“Nora,” he says softly, “I trust you. You’re about the only person I’d trust with this car.” After flashing me a quick smile, he settles back in his chair, looking perfectly comfortable.
If only my heart would stop its erratic sprinting.
Slowly—very slowly—I back out of the carport, and then we’re coasting through the Hollywood Hills, and I’m following Dex’s directions to get out of the neighborhood and back into the city.
We’re just getting onto Santa Monica Boulevard when my phone starts ringing in my bag. Dex pulls it out and turns the phone so I can see.
“It’s your mom.”
“I’ll call her back later.”
A weird expression goes across his face, and he looks at the phone screen a moment longer before slipping it back into my bag. I need to watch the road, so I can’t fully turn to try to figure out what that look means, but he goes quiet afterward.
“Take this exit,” he says, pointing at the big sign overhead.
Looking over my shoulder, I check and double-check that the lane is clear before easing the Rover over.
“So, you’re close with your family?” Dex asks as I take the exit.
“Yeah. I don’t have siblings, but I’m close with my mom and dad. Which way here?”
“Left.”
The light turns yellow, so I get into the left lane and slow to a stop. Now I’m able to look over at Dex, and he’s staring out the window.
“How about you?”
“Hmm?” He turns to look at me, though with the sun mostly set, the interior of the car is dark.
“Are you close with your family?”
“Oh. My dad and I are cool.” He hesitates for a moment, tongue darting out to touch his lip ring. “Mom left when I was a kid though. Think I was about four.”
The light turns green, illuminating Dex’s face. His expression is open, unguarded. I turn my eyes back to the road.
“Have you seen her since then?” My focus is out the windshield, but I listen closely, note Dex’s small sigh.
“Yeah. When LGC started to get big, she reached out, said she wanted to reconnect. Dad thought it was a bad idea, but I wanted to see her.” He chuckles lowly, but the sound is without humor. “We met up for lunch. She brought the paparazzi. It was the first time I realized how people were gonna use me. Haven’t talked to her since.”
My hands tighten on the steering wheel, and I’m suddenly very glad I have somewhere to look other than his face. I don’t want to say I’m sorry, because that just feels flat, is an easy response for something that must not have been easy at all for him to deal with.
“She shouldn’t have done that to you,” I say instead, voice soft. It helps to speak when I don’t have to look him in the eye. “Mothers are supposed to protect their children, not . . . exploit them.”
Another moment of silence passes, and I’m not sure how Dex feels about what I said. But then there’s a gentle touch on the back of my neck, his fingers playing with the soft hair there. Somehow, it feels like an unspoken thank-you.
I pull into the Whole Foods parking lot, and Dex gives me a weird look when I park out in the boonies.
