I run my hand over the sleek black hood. “Is it true they don’t have engines?” I spin around, and Jake is watching me with amusement as I ogle his car instead of him.
He nods. “Want to see under the hood?”
“Yes.”
He pops the hood with his key fob and then steps next to me to open it. There’s nothing but an empty trunk inside, lined with carpet. No engine. No transmission. There’s just…nothing.
“So there’s no engine at all in these cars? You never have to fill up with gas?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. There’s not even oil that needs changing. Only upkeep is the brakes and tires, really.”
“How do you keep it charged?”
“I have a charger in my garage.”
“You just plug it up at night like you’re charging a phone?”
“Basically.”
I turn back toward the car, admiring it. I can’t believe I get to ride in a Tesla tonight. I’ve been wanting to ride in one for two years. If I had updated my bucket list at all in the past few years, this would definitely be something I’d be crossing off it tonight.
“They’re really good for the environment,” he says, leaning against the hood. “No emissions.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, that’s nice. But how fast does it go?”
He laughs and crosses his feet at the ankles. His voice is intentionally low and sexy when he raises a brow and says, “Zero to sixty…in 2.5 seconds.”
“Oh, my God.”
He nods at the car. “You want to drive it?”
I glance at the car and then back at him. “Really?”
His smile is sweet. “Actually…let me make a phone call,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I might can get us in over at Harris Hill.”
“What’s Harris Hill?”
He raises the phone to his ear. “A public racetrack in San Marcos.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to hide my excitement. What are the chances that I’ll mark a third of my bucket list off in one day? Skydiving, racecar driving, and a possible one-night stand?
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. My first thought is of Sydney. My second thought is that I can’t believe I fell asleep on the couch in the middle of the afternoon.
I barely slept last night, though. Actually, I’ve barely slept for the entire past week. I was so anxious leading up to the show I had planned for Sydney last night, not knowing how she would react to it. And then after she reacted better than I ever imagined and we ended up at her place, I still couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop texting Brennan lyrics. He’s probably got enough material from last night alone to make three songs out of.
When I left Sydney’s apartment this morning, my plan was to come home and catch up on work, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything because I was so exhausted. I finally lay down on the couch and turned on Game of Thrones. I’m probably the last person to start the series, but Warren has been trying to get me to catch up to him for months. He’s on season three, and I made it through the first three episodes of season one today before I passed out.
I wonder if Sydney has watched it. If not, I’d much rather start it over and watch it with her.
I pick up my phone and have two unread texts from Warren, one from Maggie, one from Brennan, and one from Sydney. I go straight to Sydney’s text first.
Sydney: I listened to the song. It made me cry. It’s really good, Ridge.
Ridge: I think you’re just partial because you’re in love with me.
She texts back immediately.
Sydney: Nope. I’d love the song even if I didn’t know you.
Ridge: You’re not good for my ego. What time will you be here?
Sydney: On my way now. Will Warren and Bridgette be there?
Ridge: Pretty sure they both work tonight.
Sydney: Perfect. See you soon.
I close out my texts to Sydney and open Warren’s text.
Warren: Brennan sent me the new song. I like it.
Ridge: Thanks. Started Game of Thrones today. I like it.
Warren: IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME! Have you made it to the episode where they decapitate Stark in front of his daughters yet?
I press my phone to my chest and close my eyes. I hate him sometimes. Like really hate him.
Ridge: You are a fucking asshole.
Warren: Dude, it’s the best episode!
I toss my phone on the coffee table and stand up. I walk to the kitchen and open the refrigerator to search for a way to get revenge on him. I hope Warren is kidding. Ned Stark? Really, George?