Chapter Three
Val
"Um, you look smoking hot!" Katelyn walked into our shared room at the Gamma house later that day and pressed her hands to her hips. "Is Paul coming tonight? He better or he's going to find himself a single man again."
"Please." I leaned over toward the mirror and applied a thin layer of pink lipstick before pursing my lips and moving back. "I hate how fucking tall I am."
"I love it." Katelyn moved up behind me and smoothed my hair down. We were both dressed in skinny jeans, sweaters, and boots. It was comfortable, and yet we had somehow managed to look like we should be walking down the runway at a fashion show. It was due to Katelyn's sense of the latest styles, not mine. I'd have preferred to be in a pair of basketball shorts and an old t-shirt, but that wasn't acceptable. I'd been berated by my mother and my friends enough times to realize that conforming wasn't the worst thing I could do.
"Sure, you do. That's because you're short. A small fry." I sat down on the edge of my bed and worked to finish zipping up my boots.
"Whatever. You're model material and you know it." She sat down beside me. "Why else would the hottest guy on campus be dating you?"
"I give great blow jobs." I glanced at her and laughed as her face contorted.
"Gross." She got up and walked to stand in front of my full-length mirror. "I've yet to do that, but I guess the time is coming. Fucking Martin asks me to do it all the time."
"It's not that bad, actually. Just might help if I liked Paul." I laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The night was going to suck. I had no doubt that I'd be pushing Paul off for most of it or watching Carolyn show him attention in a way that left me feeling inadequate.
"How in the world do you not like Paul Wright? He's so damn dreamy." She reached for my hands, and I clasped hers, pulling myself up with her help.
"I don't know." I walked to the window and glanced out as various cars lined the front of the sorority house. "Is everyone going to this party?"
"Yep. It's going to be packed. One of the frat houses off campus is throwing it. Should be wild." She flickered the lights, causing me to turn. "Let's go. Amy is designated driver tonight. She should be here any minute."
My phone buzzed on the bed where I left it. It was my father.
"I need to get this. It's my dad, and you know he rarely calls." I shrugged. "Just go and I'll meet you guys out there. Text me the address. Besides, I'm not drinking, and if I do, I'll just leave my car at the party and ride back with you guys."
"We'll just wait for you. It's more fun when you're with us." She smiled warmly at me.
"No, he's long winded. Really. I'll see you there shortly." I picked up the phone and sat down on the bed, hitting the talk button.
"Alright. Be safe." She closed the door and left me in the serenity of our room alone. There was nothing like being by myself. It was rare, and I coveted it most days. It was the one thing I was looking forward to post-college: an apartment all to myself.
"Hi, Dad." I laid back down on the bed and pushed away the feeling of longing. Longing to belong. Longing to matter. Longing to live the life I wanted, instead of the one that he and my mother demanded for me. I hated business classes, and yet it was the degree they were paying for.
"Valentine." The strictness in his voice hurt me more than I cared to admit.
"I know. I didn't mean to upset her." I let out a shaky sigh and fought back tears. Did everyone have this much unwanted drama in their lives?
"I realize that, but you know she's been having blood pressure problems lately." I could almost hear a twinge of fear in my father's voice.
"I tried not to respond to her berating me, Dad, but a few things slipped out." I pressed my palm to my forehead and breathed in slow and deep.
I'm not going to cry. I'm not. It's not worth it. None of this shit is.
"She's got the wedding with your sister, her events at the country club, and me to deal with. It's too much for her. You know she doesn't do well with stress. Help me and stop being a drain on her, okay?" His tone softened a little, but not nearly enough. I was at fault for my mother having a rough day, though I'd done nothing to cause it.
"I'm sorry. I'll do better." I squeezed my eyes closed as the familiar sting of tears arrived.
"I know you will, kiddo. Get that leadership role in the Gammas like your mother wants you to. It's a Scott tradition, and you know it would help ease the tension between the two of you. You haven't even tried."
"Alright." He was wrong, but there was no telling him that. When riled up, he was almost worse than my mother.
"I love you, pumpkin. Be safe, and no driving that piece of shit car you have until I can get the transmission checked. Okay?"
"Yep." I let him say his goodbyes before hanging up the phone and tossing it on the bed beside me. The car had acted up once in the last two years, and my dad was being overly precautious about it. He didn't agree with my mother's refusal to buy me something new, but he wasn't going against her. No one did.
I rolled onto my side and pressed my hands to my face as a sob left me. I hadn't had a good cry in months, so maybe it was time to let it all out and hope that I could put myself back together when it was over.
It wasn't the car that needed attention from them. It was me.
*
I hadn't been on the road for more than 20 minutes when the lights on the dashboard lit up and the car started to jerk. Fear washed over me in a large wave, and I pulled over without hesitation. The last thing I needed was to lose control and have the tires lock up. The ice and snow all over the road made things dangerous enough as it was.
After taking a few deep breaths in hopes of slowing my racing heart, I turned the car off and let it sit idle for a minute. My worst nightmare roared to life as I tried to start it back up and nothing happened. I'd have to call my parents to come help me.
"Surely not. Please start. Please. Come on, baby. Please." I rubbed the dash and tried to start it again. Nothing. Not even a sputter or a choke. Nothing.
"Fuck. Really?" I got my phone out of my purse and called my sister Allison first. She and I were close and though she'd been everything Mom and Dad had wanted in a kid; she was humble about it all. They rubbed it in my face, but she never did. I hung up when the call went to voicemail. There was no need to get everyone involved in my business. My dad told me not to drive the car, and of course, I didn't listen. The fact that it was snowing like crazy and below freezing didn't help much.
I sat there, staring at the phone for a few minutes as the car started to grow cold. I would freeze to death before someone found me if I didn't get a move on with finding a solution, but that didn't sound nearly as bad as calling my parents.
"It's the engine. The transmission I think he said." I pulled the button to the hood and got out of the car as the icy winter wind slammed into me. "Shit."
I had no clue what I was doing, but like anyone else with little to no sense at all, I walked to the front of the car and popped the hood. My large winter coat helped to stave off the freezing cold, but my fingers burned with stiffness almost immediately.
I looked around the engine at the various wires and parts, searching for some quick fix on the car, yet having no fucking idea what to even look for. The sound of someone pulling up behind me gave me a jolt of hope, and I moved around to my side of the car as a dark figure parked his bike behind the car and walked toward me.
"Car trouble?" His voice was deep and slightly raspy.
"Nope. I just decided to hang out for the night. I was going to start a fire and roast marshmallows. You want a s’more?" I kicked myself internally for being an ass. What’s wrong with me?
"Right." His warm brown eyes caught my attention. He was handsome, but didn't look like the kind of guy who cared much for looks – or anything else for that matter. "Let me check the engine. Is it turning over at all?"
"Turning over?" I moved up beside him and tried not to notice how good he smelled. Various tattoos danced down his arms and played peekaboo under the collar of his heavy leather jacket.
He pulled off his gloves and shoved them in his pocket as he turned and studied me. He was rough looking, but incredibly sexy. The strength of his gaze left me wanting to blush, but it wasn't intimate, just probing. He was looking for answers about the car and nothing else.
"Turning over? No. I just pulled it to the side. It didn't flip or even skid, really." I kept my tone unfriendly, though I hated myself for doing it. Here the guy was willing to help me in the middle of a snowstorm, and I was acting like a bitch. It was a defense mechanism. I hated strangers simply for the fact that like everyone else in my life, they were probably judging me.
"No, princess. Not flipping over. When you try, and start the car, does it make a sound?" He stood up and lifted his dark eyebrow at me. "Go try and start it for me."
"Princess?" I grumbled as I walked back to the car and got in. The image of his face stayed with me as I tried to start the car and nothing happened. He had short brown hair trimmed tightly to his head and the makings of a five o'clock shadow. I wanted to know his name, but it wasn't for the right reasons, so I wouldn't be asking.
He tapped on the window, and I opened the door.
"It's the battery. It's completely dead." He lifted his hands to his mouth and breathed into them. "Did you know that your back tire is going flat, too?"
"No." I let out a sigh and worked to not act nearly as dramatic as I wanted to. "Okay. Well, thanks, anyway. I appreciate you stopping."
"Let me give you a ride back to your place or somewhere. You can't just sit out here and freeze to death." His eyes moved across me slowly, leaving me to feel almost bare in front of him. Some part of me wanted to get on the back of his bike just to see how it would feel to live a little. "You going to a party? A date? I'll drop you off there. There's no way I'm leaving you out here."
"No. Thanks, though. I'll call my friends. They're just up the road. Honestly." I gave him a tight smile and took the card he pulled from his back pocket. "I don't even know you, and I'm not getting on your bike."
A smirk lifted his kissable lips as he nodded. "I get it, but call my cell if you don't get picked up soon. The storm is only going to get worse. I'm Tate, by the way, and the address on the front is the garage I work at. Bring the car by tomorrow and I'll put a new tire on it for free. You just gotta buy the tire."
He gave me a friendly smile, and my heart fluttered in my chest in a way that left me more concerned than comforted.
"You don't have to do this." I lifted the card, suddenly feeling even more like shit for being rude to him. "My parents are really wealthy. I'll just bring the car by and pay you for the tire and your time. I owe you that much, at least."
His expression hardened just a little, and his curt nod said that he knew my kind all too well.
"I know I don't have to. I want to. Some things have nothing to do with money and everything to do with putting goodwill into the world. It's still free to be nice." He smiled and turned, closing the hood of my car and waving as he walked back to his bike.
I closed the door and let out a long sigh as I dialed Amy's number. He was right. Why the hell did I feel the need to mention that my parents were wealthy? Why would that matter to anyone? It certainly didn't matter to me.
Disgust rolled over me, but I swallowed it down. I didn't need another internal shit storm to deal with. I had enough to concern myself with as it was.
"Tate. Rugged, sexy, philanthropic mechanic Tate." I lifted the card to my face as my heart fluttered again. "Wonder what your tats look like beneath that coat."
My mother would have died to even know that I was wondering about such a low-class type of guy. A mechanic. I loved the thought of making her squirm.
"Where are you? You here?" Amy's voice was loud, and I jerked the phone from my ear.
"No, I'm stuck on the side of the road on the way to the party. My car died. Come get me? Please?" With my parents being millionaires, there was no reason for me to be sitting in a broke down car, and yet my mother wanted to prove a point in not getting me a new car just yet. I could almost hear her voice in my ear.
Good things come to those who strive to be the best. Work harder, and you'll get what Allison got.
Amy's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Hell, yeah. I'll be there in a minute. I gotcha on Track My Phone. Just stay put and no talking to strangers."
"Even sexy ones on a bike?" I looked out my window as Tate pulled back onto the road beside me. His hand lifted in the air, and a smile touched my mouth.
"Um, save that one for me. Your mother would kill you if you started dressing in leather, and those guys expect it." She laughed.
"And, you'd dress in leather for one of them? Do you even own anything made of leather?" I pictured Amy giving me a look. She was about 60 pounds overweight, and while I thought she was breathtaking and feminine, she hated her size. Leather would not be in her wardrobe.
"For a man with tats and greasy hands, I'd find something to wear." She laughed again, and we continued to play around until she drove up beside me.
I got into her car and buckled up before sliding my hands into my pockets and cupping the business card Tate had given me. It was probably a huge mistake to go visit his shop, but I couldn't help but pay attention to the excitement at the thought of seeing him again. It was silly and meant nothing, but with so few rays of light in my day, I was willing to cling to the promise of that nothingness.