The Crush by Ward Penelope (best book recommendations txt) 📕

I knew I hadn’t properly dealt with that loss. Some mornings, I still woke up expecting my mother and father to be here. If it weren’t for Nathan, I wouldn’t have made it. He did his best to fill the void they left. As miserable as we both were in the beginning, he’d tried to make life as normal as possible—like continuing our tradition of family movie night, even though it was just the two of us now. To this day, we picked one night a month to watch a movie together.

Nathan and I still lived in the neighborhood where we’d grown up in Palm Creek, Florida. After Mom and Dad died, staying in our childhood home had been too painful, so Nathan used the money we’d inherited for a down payment on a house a couple of streets over. Unfortunately, my brother had been recently laid off from his car-sales job and needed some help paying the bills. Around the same time, Jace moved home to temporarily manage his dad’s business. Nathan asked Jace if he would rent out our spare bedroom to help with our mortgage payment. Since Jace was in limbo, waiting to buy property until he knew whether or not he’d be staying in Florida permanently, moving in with us was a good, temporary solution. It benefited everyone. So that’s how we became a party of three.

I turned to my brother. “Can I have a ride to the bar?”

“What’s wrong with your car now?”

“It might be the alternator this time. It’s in the shop again.”

“That piece of shit.”

The old, rust-colored Toyota Corolla I drove constantly gave me trouble. Thankfully, our local mechanic—ironically named “Rusty”—always offered me a good deal. Nathan was convinced Rusty had ulterior motives when it came to me, but I gladly accepted the price break without questioning the reason for it.

“I’m saving up for something else,” I assured him. “Until then, I have to deal with it. Not like I could get any money for that piece of junk if I tried to sell it.”

“Next time, don’t take it to Rusty,” Jace said. “I can try to fix it.”

The idea of Jace shirtless and sweaty under my car wasn’t exactly unpleasant.

“Thanks. I hadn’t thought to ask you. I appreciate the offer.”

“When do you need to be at The Iguana?” Nathan asked.

“I have to leave now. I just need a ride there. Kellianne says she can drive me home.”

He looked over at the clock. “I can’t take you now. Someone’s coming in ten minutes to look at the lawn mower I’m selling. I can take you after, though.”

I frowned. “I’ll miss the beginning if I don’t leave now.”

“Why is that such a big deal?” Nathan asked. “It’s just a bunch of drunk people spewing dumb shit.”

“It’s not dumb. It’s captivating.”

Once a week, The Iguana held their open mic “Pour Your Heart Out” night, and I’d been obsessed with going as of late. Patrons—mostly somewhat drunk ones—were encouraged to get on stage and reveal anything they wanted to a room full of strangers. It could be something they needed to get off their chest, or their deepest, darkest secret. You never knew what you were going to get. Some of the confessions were sad, things I could relate to after years of harboring the pain of my parents’ murder. Other times, it was a sexy secret. Some people held nothing back. It was definitely eighteen-plus. Even though I loved listening to it all, I hadn’t had the guts to get up on stage yet. Someday.

“I can take her,” Jace interrupted.

I inwardly celebrated.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it,” Nathan said.

Jace stood up from the table and tossed the pistachio shells he’d accumulated on a paper napkin into the trash.

He grabbed his keys from the counter and threw them up in the air. “Let’s go.”

A surge of adrenaline coursed through me as I followed Jace outside to his shiny black pickup truck, parked in our driveway. It was almost 8PM, and the hot Florida air had started to cool down. A warm breeze blew around the palm trees in front of our house. We lived on a quiet street of similar-looking stucco homes. Our house was only one level, but it was pretty big in comparison to the other properties. We had three bedrooms and a large, screened-in pool in the back. Because the homeowners’ association was very strict, all of the houses were kept in good condition. Otherwise, you’d have to pay a fine. Members of the association drove by periodically and would send nastygrams if they so much as noticed the paint chipping. Fortunately, Nathan could fix pretty much anything himself.

The black leather seat felt hot against my skin. The truck was huge, too big for our small garage, which was where Nathan parked his little Hyundai. Jace always had to park outside in the heat.

He started the ignition but didn’t back out, instead looking down at my navel. For a split second, I thought he might have been checking me out. “Put your seatbelt on.”

Well, now I feel dumb. “Oh.” I grabbed it and placed it over my chest before locking it in. “Sorry.”

I flinched when he wrapped his hand around my seat as he backed out of the driveway.

Did you think he was going to touch you, Farrah?

I had to giggle.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked as he drove down the road.

Wracking my brain, I made something up. “You know what they say about men with big trucks, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “That their vehicles are proportional to the size of their manhood? Yup. Live that every day.”

“That’s not exactly what I heard. But whatever you say.” I winked.

“Wiseass.” He laughed.

The smell of his cologne, mixed with the smallest hint of cigar, filled the air. He’d never smoked in front of me, but I knew he enjoyed the occasional cigar while he drove. I loved the smell of his truck, because it was basically the smell of him condensed into a small space.