RISKY BUSINESS

Chapter 12

APRIL,
b r o o k l y n     l e s l i e     c o o p e r
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I sat on the passenger's side of Luke's car, nervously avoiding the boy who was driving beside me— who wasn't even Luke. We'd been quiet as ever since we entered the automobile, not one of us even attempting to say a word. Not even the radio was on. I assumed it was off because Luke had a life and would actually speak to whoever was in the car with him; like Morgan or the boys. One of which was sitting in the driver's seat, with full control of the car. And my mind, apparently.

I sneakily looked at him through the corner of my eyes. It was weird, seeing him driving a car. I was so used to seeing him zoom around on his motorbike, the one I'd gotten a chance to take a ride on. I couldn't lie, it was kind of fun. Being on a motorbike, that is. I felt so alive, so free, when I was on the back on his bike, clinging onto him for dear life. And thinking of it now, I regretted letting my mother's scolding affect me. Who cares if our neighbour offered to drop me off? Who cares if his chosen vehicle was a motorbike? Who cares. It wasn't like we did anything wrong. Or bad, in that case.

I hadn't realised that my head had inched to the right to make it blatantly obvious I was staring at him, so when he chuckled under his breath, and turned his head to wink at me and spoke— I freaked out.

"Taking a picture would be more discrete than your staring, you know." He said. And I jumped at his words. Not only because they were abrupt, but because I didn't even realise I was staring at him.

I bit down onto my lip with wide eyes. "I was not staring at you."

He nodded and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "Right, right. You were checking me out, how about that?"

I shook my head almost too quickly. "I wasn't even checking you out! I was thinking."

I wanted to say more. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't paying and mind to my actions, because I was deep in thought. But saying that would mean explaining what I was thinking about. And I did not want to fall into that mess, because I knew it'd be chaotic.

Calum nodded, his attention on the cars and the road ahead of us. "Yeah? What about?"

I gulped. Hard. "Umm . . ."

The car stooped, and I looked forward to see that it was because we were at a red light, not for other reasons— reasons I wouldn't be sure of, like because he was suddenly mad or something, I don't know. When I looked back over at Calum, he was already looking at me. Waiting. I let out a sigh, and looked down. "You."

I didn't want to look up. I knew he was smirking at me. But I had to justify myself, so I looked up and into his eyes, and motioned to him and Luke's car. "It's just weird seeing you drive a car."

His hands were resting on the steering wheel, and the veins in them weren't hard to detect. Even in his arms. They made me squirmish. But his tattoos distracted me from them. I'd never really noticed his tattoos. Sure, I knew he had heaps— but I'd never seen them up close before. I tried to figure out what each was or meant, but when the car started moving again and Calum chuckled once more, I looked back up to his face, which looked amused.

He shrugged. "Eh, I guess. It doesn't feel weird for me, since my mum and sister get me to drive them everywhere. And sometimes I'll take over for the boys. You'll get used to it."

He said it like he knew we'd be seeing each other more often, and I didn't exactly like that. I arched my eyebrow up at him, and spoke with a testing tone. "And what makes you think I'll let you drive me places again?"

His demeanour changed suddenly. From relaxed and cocky, to tense and . . .nervous? Why did he look nervous? He never got nervous.

I watched him for a good minute, not caring if it bothered him I was staring. I studied his mood change like my life depended on it. I noticed the was his biceps bulged through his plain blue t-shirt. And the way his eyes flickered between me and the road like he was at war with himself— or convincing himself to stop looking at me, but just couldn't. I even noticed how he would clear his throat and then lick his lips, only to repeat the process a few seconds later.