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The Redo (Winslow Brothers #4)(39)

Author:Max Monroe

“You can stop thanking me. I wanted to help.”

“No, I should definitely thank you. Like a million times, in fact. I owe you big-time, Remy,” I say, wishing I could repay him for his kindness. “If you ever get hurt or something and need someone to drive you to the ER, I’m your gal,” I say. But then quickly add, “But obviously, I hope I can help you in a different way that doesn’t involve you getting an injury. I definitely don’t want that. But if an injury would occur, which I definitely don’t want that to happen, I’m not the gal who can physically drive you because that would be illegal unless it happens two years from now, but I’ll definitely be the gal who will call you a cab and keep you company.”

Oh my God, what is wrong with you? You sound insane.

I almost cringe at my nearly incoherent ramble, but when an amused laugh jumps from Remy’s lungs, I find myself smiling instead.

“Sounds perfect, Maria,” he says, smiling right back at me. “I’ll mark you down as my emergency contact if cab transportation is an option.”

I giggle. “Great.”

Silence stretches between us, and when I look down at my cast again, I get an idea.

“So…” I pause and hold out my arm. “Do you want to sign my cast?”

He grins. “You want me to be your first?”

You want me to be your first? That question plays in my mind on a loop, and I can’t help but wish Remy would be my first for a lot of things. Not all of which my mother would approve of.

“Yes, please,” I answer and hold out the black Sharpie one of the nurses in the ER was nice enough to give me before I was discharged.

“I’m honored, Maria,” he says, but then a secret grin kisses his perfect mouth. “But my signature comes with stipulations.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I’ll sign your cast,” he explains. “But only if you give me your number.”

My heart dances inside my chest. “You want my phone number?”

“Yeah,” he says with the kind of smile that makes my stomach feel all gooey inside. “I have to make sure you’re going to follow through with our some-other-time plans.”

“Are you asking me out after I’ve already asked you out, just to make sure we go out, Remington Winslow?” I tease, using his earlier words, and it’s no surprise to me that he takes it in confident stride.

“Maria, I am most definitely asking you out after you’ve asked me out to make sure we go out. Soon.”

Holy moly. He’s asking me out! Remington Winslow wants to go out with me! My inner cheerleader does three flips in the air. Although, I’m certain she actually manages to stick the landing.

“You have a deal.” I hand him the marker.

He grins at me from beneath his lashes as he takes the Sharpie from my hand and writes his name on my cast. His handwriting looks exactly how a boy’s handwriting should look. A combination of messy and sharp, and I don’t know why I like it so much.

Once he dots his “i’s” and crosses his “t,” he gives the marker back to me and holds out the palm of his right hand.

“Your number please, milady.”

I giggle, thinking he’s joking, but when he doesn’t move his palm from its outstretched position, my jaw nearly hits the tops of my thighs. “But…but this is a permanent marker?”

“Exactly,” he says. “No way I’m going to risk losing Maria Baros’s number.”

He says my name like I’m someone special, and it makes my belly feel all fluttery inside.

I want to let out the giddiest squeal, but I hold it back, acting as laid-back and chill as I possibly can, and simply write my number on the palm of his hand.

“Thank you.” He stares down at the numbers like they mean something to him, and I stare at him like he’s the type of guy who could quickly mean something to me.

When he looks up at me from beneath his lashes, I can’t find the power to look away.

The stereo clicks off from the engine being idle for too long, and a hush fills the car. The air around us is so quiet that my ears feel like there’s a radio inside them, trying to find the right frequency.

Remy searches my eyes, and I can’t look away from him. Don’t want to look away from him.

He shifts his body closer to mine, the only thing between us the center console of his Mustang. He lifts his hand and uses his fingers to brush loose strands of hair that have fallen from my ponytail and slide them behind my ear.

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