Page 4 of Like You Know
“Well, of course!” Mom sipped her wine.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Amaya,” Cal said, all friendly and shit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Let’s sit at the dining table.” Mom grabbed her bowl of pasta and sauntered over to the table that had not been used for dining in I didn’t even know how long.
“Yes, let’s.” Cal smiled. “Can I get you something to drink?”
This motherfucker—literally—was offering me a drink in my own damn house.
“No thanks.” I gave him a tight smile, then turned to my mom. I’d seen enough. “You should’ve checked in at some point over the past three days. Then you would’ve known that I was busy tonight.” I grabbed the bowl of pasta. I was hungry and not about to say no to a home-cooked meal.
Without another word, I made my way upstairs to lock myself in my room, eat alone, and read until I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
CHAPTERTWO
The next day,I didn’t so much as catch a glimpse of Jet until lunch. I had just packed my books into my locker, and when I closed the door, I found him casually leaning on the locker behind it, hands in pockets, the tie of his school uniform askew.
He’d clearly been hoping to startle me, sneaking up like that. I didn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I looked past him as if he weren’t there and made to turn away.
“Amaya, right?” He flashed an amused grin. He had dimples. He had that baby face that made him look as if he was too young to be a senior and that tight body that suggested he was too old to be in high school.
I sighed and decided to indulge my curiosity. “Yeah?”
“Do you make it a habit to stalk all your classmates? Or am I a special case?”
“I have absolutely zero idea what you’re talking about, and the fucks I have to give are in the negative.” Had he seen me parked at Mena’s building? He hadn’t even glanced in our direction.
“The F-Type has a custom exhaust system with valve control, twenty-inch gloss black wheels, and probably a whole lot of other custom mods I couldn’t see from a distance. It’s one of my dream cars. I’d recognize it anywhere, even without the purple custom paint job. You drive a distinctive car, especially for that neighborhood. What were you doing there?”
“That’s none of your business, but rest assured it had nothing to do with you.” I crossed my arms. Who did he think he was, accusing me of stalking? Never mind that I’d been on the verge of doing exactly that.
He dropped the teasing smile and stood up to his full height. He wasn’t that much taller than me, but he had strong shoulders and really good posture. Still, I refused to be cowed by any man.
“If you want to know something about me, just ask,” he said matter-of-factly. “I don’t appreciate being spied on any more than I’m sure you would.”
I snorted. “You wish. I was dropping off a friend who lives there, OK? And I’ve had enough of this.”
I turned and walked toward the cafeteria.
He caught up to me in a matter of a few paces, his gait easy, relaxed. “So ... I may have jumped the gun a bit there.” He rubbed the back of his head.
“Whatever. I’m used to men assuming the world revolves around them.”
He laughed, and it was such a free, genuine sound it almost made me crack a smile. “We started off on the wrong foot.”
I gave him a withering look.
“And that’s my fault,” he rushed to add. “So can we start again?”
Before I could respond, he jumped in front of me, blocking my way just feet from the cafeteria and my sushi lunch. “Hi. I’m Jet. What’s your name?”
He held his hand out, smiling at me like an eager puppy.
“What kind of name is that? Were your parents aircraft enthusiasts or something?”
“Actually, my mom was anNCISenthusiast. Full name is Jethro.” He chuckled as if he’d just told a great joke.
“What?” I had no idea what this weirdo was saying.