Capri Coleman was a normal girl, getting ready to graduate college when her life fell apart. Her close friend died in a mysterious fire, she learns that her family's death from years ago might not be what she always thought, and she is thrown into t...
"A little bit of day drinking never killed anyone."
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One week had passed since Sam and Dean built a pyre and burned their father's body. One week of Dean working nonstop on his car in Bobby's back yard.
Music played through the radio on the table beside me. I sat atop said table, sunglass perched on my nose as I watched him work.
He was underneath the car at the moment, tinkering away at something I didn't understand.
"So do you plan on just living under that car for the rest of your days, or...?" I trailed off.
"What do you care?"
"Because a heat stroke would be an uninteresting death." I jumped off the table, moving closer. I knelt down, peeking under the car. His gray t-shirt stuck to his body from sweat, patches of motor oil covering his clothes, hands, and arms. "You should take a shower."
Dean grunted in response.
I rolled my eyes, standing up and grabbing his ankles. I pulled him from under the car. "Hi." I gave him a sarcastic smile as I stood over him. I sat down, straddling his hips so he couldn't go back to hiding beneath the car. "How's it going?"
"I'm busy."
I rolled my eyes. "You can take a break for a minute," I stated.
"Come on, Ria, I—"
"Uh-huh." I grabbed them hem of my shirt, lifting it. "Better?"
"You can't just flash me and get what you want," Dean said.
I dropped my shirt, covering my bra once more. "I'm not wearing any underwear." I took his wrist, placing his hand on my thigh, just under the hem of my skirt.
"Nice try." Dean gave my leg a squeeze, thumb brushing over the inside of my thigh. "Now get up."
I blinked. "Are you serious?"
"Deadly."
"Fine." I stood, shrugging my shoulders. "Yours loss." I moved back to the table, pushing myself up to sit there. "I'll just sit here. All hot and horny and barely clothed while you play mechanic."
Dean scoffed, standing up and moving toward me. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"
The cut on his cheek and forehead was still healing, still visible. The rest of his cuts and bruises had healed by now. Or most of them.
"Come on, you need a shower." I leaned back, palms flat against the table behind me. "It'll make you feel better."
"I feel just fine."
"You are a dirty liar and I am done here." I hopped off the table, turning and walking off.
