Oh, Dakota.

Chapter Seventeen.

I groaned slightly, swatting away the annoying finger poking repeatedly into my cheek. “Blondie,” I grumbled, holding the finger in my fist. “Poke me one more time.”

“Let go of my finger and I will.”

I snickered. She was being cocky, but at least she was talking to me again. Without opening my eyes, or releasing her finger, I dropped my voice down and asked, “Want to see what I can do with my finger?”

It went quiet, and I could feel the smirk tugging at my mouth. I was expecting to be hit or at least be told to shut up, but I wasn’t expecting what she said next. She matched my tone, “Sure. Right now?”

A hot shiver passed through me. I almost moaned out loud. Was she teasing me? I swung my legs around, sitting up. I raised both eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Dakota just stared at me for a minute. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it was dark in the house. Suddenly, she laughed loudly. “Ha, nope! But, it woke you up, didn’t it?”

I sneered. I won’t lie, I felt slightly disappointed. I am a guy, after all. “Whatever.” I mumbled. “What do you want? And what time is it?”

“Eleven thirty at night.” She answered. “And I’m hungry.”

“So?”

“Feed me.”

“I’ll feed you all right.”

Dakota’s hand shot out and swatted against my shoulder. There’s the hit I was looking for. “Don’t be gross, Elijah.”

I laughed, rubbing my shoulder. “I’m just joking. What do you want me to do about you being hungry?”

“Let’s go get some food.” She straightened up. It was just then, did I really notice her. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and her face was clear of any make up. You could see her eyes were still glazed over from sleep and she threw on a gray hoodie. She continued, “We can go get something from the food store.”

My stomach growled and I realized I hadn’t eaten since lunch. Standing up, I cracked my back before reaching onto the white stand by the couch and picking up my keys. “Sure. But, you tell me where the store is.”

I followed her outside. The light breeze washed over my face, and it felt good, waking me up. I started to open the car door, but Dakota stopped me.

I raised any eyebrow at her grinning face. This couldn’t be good. “Can I drive?” She asked excitedly, beaming.

I dangled the keys in front of her. When she reached for them, I pulled my hand back. “Why would you want to drive my truck? Don’t you own a BMW?”

Dakota pouted. “I like your car.”

“You do?” I found that hard to believe. My truck was old, and used to belong to my dad. We fixed it up together when I finally got my license. Don’t get me wrong, I love my truck, but anyone can tell how old it is. The red paint is chipping, and the bumper is messed up.

“Yeah.” Dakota was saying. She runs her fingers over the door. “It feels…cozy.”

She hesitantly looked back up at me. She was still pouting. She slithered up closer to me, until our chest almost touched. “Can I please drive, Elijah? Please?” She cooed, and her warm fingers moved behind my back where the keys where.

I hated how I easily gave into her. I didn’t even try to put a fight as her fingers slipped between mine, staying a beat longer than needed, before grabbing the keys.

“Yes!” She roared, sliding into the driver’s seat. Once I was in the passenger’s, she slipped in the key and turned on the ignition. She grinned, settling into the bench and curling her hands around the wheel. “I missed driving.”

I snorted. “It’s only been about like four days since you last drove.”

She shrugged. She began to drive, gliding perfectly down the empty, dark road. “Your point is?”

“No point.” I gazed at her. She looked good driving my car. Shaking my head, I reached over and flicked on the radio.

“I love this song!” Dakota cheered, bouncing up excitedly. She easily turned a corner as she began to rap all the lyrics to Nicki Minaj, Super Bass. She was bobbing her head up and down, her voice obnoxiously loud, and when it came to the chorus, horribly off key.

Despite how adorable she looked, I cracked up laughing.

She stopped singing and threw me a glare. “What’s so funny?”

“Your singing.” I gasped, still laughing.

She frowned. “We can’t all be gifted, Astor.” She chewed on her bottom lip, glancing at me before back at the road. “Where did you learn to sing like that anyway?”

I sobered up. Shrugging, I looked down at the seat. “My mom could sing. I got it from her, I guess.”

Dakota went quiet. Her fingers fidgeted on the steering wheel anxiously. Softly, she said, “Was it hard growing up without a mom?”

Yes. “You get used to it.” And I did. I came to conclusions, that there was nothing I could change. My mother didn’t want to be a part of our family anymore, so be it. I grew up fine without her.

“I couldn’t imagine.” She mumbled, thoughtfully.

I wondered what she was thinking. It scared me how much I wanted to know her. There was so much more to Dakota than she let on. “How about you?” I asked. “Are you close with your mom?”

We were driving silently down a public street. “Yes.” Dakota finally answered. “I’m close with both my parents, but I haven’t seen much of them lately.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged small. It didn’t look like she wanted to talk about it, but I’m being selfish and I want to know. I thought she wouldn’t respond, but she said, “My dad was laid off from work not too long ago. So, my mom has been taking extra shifts at the magazine she works for. My dad is out most of the time looking for work, while my mom is already working, so I don’t see them as often as I like.”

Suddenly, it dawned on me. “Is that why you wanted the job at the club?” I felt a twinge of guilt for assuming she was a rich, spoiled brat.

She looked embarrassed. I don’t know why though. “Uh, yeah. I want to help with the bills.”

This girl kept surprising me. Everything I thought I knew about her was wrong. I realized I knew very little about her, minus her sarcastic demeanor. I was going to figure her out.

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