Page 5 of The Love Penalty

She’s the fucking ice queen of Nolan U.

We can’t be friends.

We can’t be anything.

So I turn back to my job as driver, clenching my jaw as “The Blue Danube” by Johann Strauss crescendos around us.

CHAPTER 3

LEILANI

So, Asher’s a Potterhead just like me. Unbelievable. I wonder how many people actually know that. I can’t imagine the Hockey House bros not hassling the life out of him for it. Not that Harry Potter isn’t completely cool, I just don’t know if it’s hockey-jock, caveman cool.

Much to my horror, I’m dying to know which house he’s in. It’s taking maximum effort not to ask which one is his favorite book and which character he relates to. I bet it’s Snape. Although, that guy’s like one of the best heroes in the entire series. In fact, he’s one of my favorite characters.

So, Asher is not allowed to be Snape.

Maybe he could be… Peter Pettigrew.

I internally snort, thinking about that wretched, two-faced shifter rat who betrayed his friends to Voldemort.

No, Asher’s not like that. If there’s one thing I noticed about him this weekend, he seems to be loyal. I get the impression that he’d do anything for his hockey bros; he just acts like he doesn’t give a shit, but I bet he’d move heaven and earth for those guys.

So, maybe he’s a Gilderoy Lockhart, then. The man who thinks the sun shines out his ass and he’s been placed on Earth to save it… when in reality he’s a lying coward.

I fight a grin, forcing myself not to look in the rearview mirror in case he’s trying to smile at me again. I don’t want to connect with him. It’s horrifying enough that he’s into one of my favorite book series ever. I don’t want to find any other connections with the guy.

I don’t want him to know that I’m most like Hermione, although he’s probably already thinking it. She was my hero when I was growing up. I wanted to be just like her. Although, when I took the quiz, I ended up in Ravenclaw, but you know, I’d argue that Hermione would have been quite happy in Ravenclaw as well.

I’m seconds away from asking Asher if he agrees before I quickly clamp my lips together. What is wrong with me?

Don’t you dare start up another conversation with that man.

He’s rude, remember?

He called you a shrutebag the first time you spoke on the phone.

And you’re allowed to hold that against him forever if you want to!

With a light sniff, I cross my arms, staring out the window with fresh resolve. Asher Bensen is an arrogant, impatient, annoying know-it-all, and I refuse to like him on principle alone.

There. Done.

Easy resolve.

Except that he also sacrificed the last of his weekend to drive you back to Nolan, and he listens to Vivaldi when he’s driving alone, and he smiled at you when you admitted you like Harry Potter.

Shit! I need to stop this. I can’t get soft around this guy. I can’t get soft around any guy. I have to keep my wits about me.

Which is why I tense up when I feel the truck slow down.

“What are you doing?” I sit up and glance out the windshield.

“We need gas,” he murmurs, pulling into the station and gliding to a stop next to Pump 11.

I don’t say anything as he hops out of the truck and try not to notice how sexy he looks pumping gas.

That’s not a sexy thing, Leilani!