Crash Into You

Chapter 13

Isaiah

I GLANCE DOWN AT RACHEL’S mouth and feel the urge to press my lips to hers. I’m a fucking jackass. I suck in a breath through my mouth to avoid her scent and step back, dropping my arm to my side. I did not bring her back here to have sex.

Hell yes, she’s hot and my mind won’t stop replaying the twelve different ways I could possibly do her, but she’s not that type of girl.

I rub my eyes. I haven’t touched anyone since Beth, but that doesn’t mean I have the right to come on to a girl that’s too good for me. I slump onto the couch and notice how Rachel shifts uncomfortably. Dammit, she shouldn’t have to put up with my mood swings.

“I do like you,” I repeat. “There’s only one other person who’d stick their neck out for me. If there’s anything I can do for you, name it and it’s yours.”

The chaos in my mind begins to clear as I start to understand why I’m acting like a maniac. Beth’s been the only girl to mean something to me, and I generally don’t give a shit about people. I’m confusing lust and friendship and creating crap that’s not there. Fuck yeah, I’m attracted to Rachel, but the emotions going on...it’s because I owe her.

“Will you let me clean up your cut?” she asks.

I check out the small hunk of skin missing from my forearm, having forgotten about the wound. “It’s all good. I’ve had worse.”

“No, you said that if you could do something for me, you would, so let me do this.”

“Yeah. If I can do something for you. Not have you do something for me.”

Rachel clasps her hands behind her back like she doesn’t know what else to do with them. “I want to do this, and I’d like you to let me.”

Keeping my hands off her and being respectful are going to be hard as hell if she continues to put herself within arm’s reach. “Fine.”

I stand and spend more time than needed rifling through the cabinet beneath the sink to find Band-Aids, rubbing alcohol and a towel. Echo bought this stuff for us when we first moved in, and neither Noah nor I have touched it since. As I set it all on the floor in front of the couch, Rachel motions for me to sit and when I do, she joins me with her knee grazing my thigh.

Fuck me, she’s warm.

Rachel opens the box of Band-Aids and searches through it as if she’s an actual doctor picking a scalpel. The scent of the ocean enters my nose and my jeans tighten. “If you’re serious about modifying your car, I’ll do it if you get the parts. No cost.”

That can be the way I repay this debt and stop thinking about letting my fingers drift up her shirt to caress what would probably be the softest skin on the planet.

She peels back the paper to reveal the Band-Aid and balances it on her knee. “If I do make modifications, I think I’d like to do them myself. I don’t get to work with cars that often, and I sort of get a rush when I do.”

Jesus, it’s like I’ve met my twin. One glance at her slim figure and I erase that thought. I wouldn’t be attracted to someone I was related to. “Then think about what you want and I’ll score you the parts.” I’ve got favors I’d call in for her.

“Hold out your arm,” she instructs and though it makes me feel like a damn fool, I obey.

Rachel pours alcohol onto the towel and begins to dab it on the cut. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that, but I’m not sure I want to mess with her. My real dream is to find an old Mustang and supe her up. Kind of like what you’re doing with yours. That would be awesome.”

Ignoring the slight sting on my arm, I turn my head to survey her. This girl is too good to be true. “Then I’ll help you with that.”

Rachel holds the towel to my skin. “You don’t have to.”

“I owe you.”

Her nose wrinkles as if she’s thinking something she believes is not worth saying. I have to keep myself from asking what.

“Does it hurt?” she asks. “Because sometimes I blow on my cuts when I put alcohol on them.”

“I’m good.”

“Then I guess I’m a wuss. I would have thought the alcohol would sting. You’re missing the top layer of skin.”

Without another word, she places the towel on the floor, takes the plastic off the Band-Aid and presses it to my skin. I haven’t worn one of these since I was five. Earlier tonight, everything felt hopeless after I talked to Noah, but being around her erases bad thoughts.

Rachel raises her head and her forehead scrunches. “What?”

Under the dim lighting, parts of her hair shine and I crave to run my fingers through it. Fuck it. Once she goes home, she’ll never come back. If Beth taught me anything, it’s to grab hold of what’s in front of me while I can. “What would you do if I kissed you?”