Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Chapter 12
Kipp
“Tell me again why I need to be down here,” Bunny teasingly commands, long jean covered legs dangling over the edge of the counter space she’s occupying, feet swaying along to Hildegard von Bingen that’s playing through the shop’s speakers. “Tell me again why I couldn’t stay upstairs where the air doesn’t smell like spilled oil and stale Cheez-Its.”
“Cheetos.” my correction is attached to a crooked grin. “The distinction is important.”
She tilts her head tauntingly to the side. “Is it?”
“Extremely.” I use a towel to wipe away the aforementioned liquid off my hands at the same time I state, “Just like the difference between crunchy and puffy.”
“Yeah, puffy is definitely better.”
“That’s not at all what the fuck I said.” Laughing is accompanied by a headshake. “And it’s shit I would never say ‘cause crunchy is better.”
“I know those are probably the one’s mommy packed for you to go with your Lunchable but-”
“What’s a Lunchable?”
Her face suddenly shifts to one of confusion. “You don’t know what a fucking Lunchable is?!”
“Of course I know what a fuckin’ Lunchable is just like I know that crunchy Cheetos are better than puffy ones.” Playfully tossing the towel at her precedes more laughter. “Just like car movies are better than horror movies.”
She effortlessly catches the rag. “Agreed.”
“You don’t like horror movies?”
“I’ve lived horror,” Bunny less than gently reminds on a small shrug. “I prefer not to watch it.”
“Same.”
Our eyes momentarily lock in sympathetic filled silence.
Alright so I don’t know exactly what bullshit she’s lived through.
Or is living through.
Or running from.
But I know what living a nightmare feels like.
What not sleeping at night looks like.
And that was her when she got here.
But that isn’t her now.
At least…it doesn’t seem to be.
I’ve seen her get some decent zs.
Eat.
Smile.
And while I wanna know more about her, I won’t push.
I’ll wait.
Because that’s what’s best for Bunny.
That’s what’s gonna stop her from feeling like she has to keep running and hiding.
Not that I’d be above seeking.
Not in a creepy stalker way but fighting for the one you love or whatever.
Not that I love her.
Not that I…don’t.
Or someday won’t.
Or can’t.
Or…what the fuck is wrong with me?
Did I inhale too much motor oil this morning?
Why am I always struggling so hard to read this chick’s warranty manual.
Bunny tucks her pen into her high bun to hang out with the Mickey Mouse one that’s already taken up residency. “You gonna tell me why you needed me down here or what?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Grabbing a fresh car rag occurs on my way back to the front of the vehicle. “I mean it’s not like this shit happens every day.”
Bewilderment rapidly reappears on her face as she curiously leans forward. “What shit?”
“Movie shit.”
“What?!”
“You know where an inanimate object-”
“So many syllables for you.”
“-comes to life like Herbie.”
“The Love Bug?”
“Or Christine, which is technically a love story masquerading as a horror movie.”
“Yeah, totally, the wrong takeaway from that film, Kid.”
“Or KITT from Knight Rider, but he’s autonomous A.I. not actually sentient-”
“Sounds like someone’s been studying for his SATs.”
“-but like the basic principle comparison still stands.”
“Wow,” Bunny whispers out between snickers, “you really do love cars.”
“Movies, TV, and magazines…” I snatch up the funnel I’ll be using to add oil to the vehicle. “And you, baby, are the living, breathing, embodiment of every car mag girl I’ve ever jerked it to.”
The twisted compliment causes more giggles to flood the garage.
“Why do I need you to be here?” The towel is placed on top of the cap area to clean it before removing it to prevent the gunk from falling into the area once it’s open. “Because it’s not every day fantasy literally wanders off the page to become reality.”
Redness creeps into her cheeks as she tucks her bottom lips between her teeth.
Car shit may not be the most romantic shit you can say but that doesn’t mean it can’t be romantic.
Flirting really is just like driving a car.
It’s not necessarily about how the body of the vehicle looks.
It’s about what’s under the hood.
How much power it has.
How smooth you are when shifting gears.
And when it comes to Bunny?
I steadily bounce back and forth between never needing to glance at the speedometer and panic stalling.
Which is something I only did twice when first learning to drive.
I was ten and my mom had like just died.
What did my old man expect?
“What are you working on now?” Bunny curiously inquires at the same time I twist the cap off.
“Changing the oil still.” Carefully placing the object to the side is followed by inserting the funnel. “Gotta dump before you pump.”
“One of the finest third date rules there is.”
Rather than grabbing the bottle of oil, I shoot her a lifted eyebrow. “You fuck on the third date?”
“Evidently,” she curls her fingers around the edge of the counter in a sassy nature, “I fuck without a date.”