THE GUYS' girl

Chapter 8

Skipping the song vibes for just one chapter, because what are the odds that there is actually a scene with Chace Crawford (aka CAM) from Gossip Girl that basically goes perfectly with this chapter... you'll see!

I waited for the light to turn green before making the right turn out of our complex. The sound of a tire rubbing against the concrete curb filled the silent car. Out of the corner of my eye, my dad flinched at what was becoming a frequent incident during my driving lessons.

True to his quiet, laid-back personality, my dad said nothing about the curb. "Now, put your left blinker on. We're turning up here at the next light."

Ten minutes passed of quiet calm in the car. My dad gave me plenty of warning for each navigational change I needed to make. It occurred to me that for the first time in two weeks, my shoulders weren't tensed up around my neck while driving.

While dad had been tied up with an IT disaster and working around the clock, my mom took over my driving lessons. We'd had our own little disaster three times a week in the front seat of the Explorer.

My mom was a terrible driving coach. She would panic, which made me panic, which led to either tears or screams. It happened at least once a lesson. She threatened at one point to install her own brake pedal and steering wheel in the passenger seat so that she could micromanage my driving.

If I was honest with myself, the reason my mom and I couldn't drive well together was that we were so similar. We were anxious, liked to be in control, and didn't take criticism well. To be fair, I was a crappy driver.

Smiling, I took a wide right turn and didn't hit the curb. Maybe I was getting the hang of this.

"Wait, why did you have me drive to Aiden's condo?"

"I didn't tell you? We're picking up Hunter." My dad shrugged like this was not brand new information.

The panic that settled within me was nothing like driving with my mom. It was a thousand times worse. Grabbing the visor, I evaluated myself in the mirror.

Ugh, of course.

I swiped at the sleep in the corner my eye. Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out my tinted Burt's Bees chapstick and applied with shaking hands. I could kill my dad for springing this on me. Glancing down at my t-shirt and sweatpants, I gloomily acknowledged there was nothing I could do about it now.

Hunter emerged from the condo, his hands shoved in the pockets of his tight jeans. His hair was messy and untamed but in a good way. I enjoyed the brief moment of unashamedly gawking at his tight grey t-shirt while he walked to our car. Taller and leaner than the other guys, Hunter could make any outfit look like it belonged on a runway.

When he slid into the back seat, I turned with as much fake confidence as I could muster and said, "Where to?"

Hunter frowned and his eyebrows shot up. Apparently, I was missing something.

"Avery, Hunter asked if I would help him with driving lessons. I just figured we could do them at the same time."

I swallowed. So this was going to be a repeat experience? Hunter Shaw and I would be confined in this small space multiple times a week?

"Cool." I managed. I was anything but.

"I hope that's OK with you," Hunter's smooth voice came from behind me. I turned to see a signature Shaw smile and eye sparkle. "I haven't really had time to get my practice hours in since I turned 16. That was over a year ago, so I figure it's now or never."

"Sure," I answered. I was quickly becoming the queen of one-word answers. I hated that I always got so tongue-tied around him.

My dad turned in his seat so he could look back and forth between the two of us. "Well after the 'Brian Taylor school of driving' (and he actually used his fingers to make air quotes) I'll have the two of you licensed and on the road in no time at all!"