“I like your car,” I told him and then teased, “What’s its name?”

He breathed out a laugh and then I felt him behind me, his whisper hitting my ear. “My pets all have pulses.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and every inch of my skin sparked to life. How did he do that?

Taking my hand, he led me around to the driver’s side, opened the door, and climbed in, and I heard the seat slide, but I wasn’t sure if he was moving it forward or backward. Something else shifted, too. The steering wheel?

My heart pumped harder, and apprehension made me retreat a step. I don’t think…

“Come here,” he said.

Uh, no. Maybe this isn’t a great idea.

His fingers took mine, and he tugged. “Get in this car right now.”

My stomach sank to my feet as I hesitated, and I felt a little sick.

I could go back to the house right now. I could go to bed with my music and audiobooks and my quiet house while the world continued to spin around me, and the next time I was given a chance to do something wild, stupid, and scary, it would be even easier to turn tail and run… Every day just as predictable as the last.

This was stupid. And illegal.

But he was fun. I didn’t want it to be over.

I closed my eyes and let my shoulders slump a little, defeated.

Fine. I slid a leg into the car, ducking my head as he guided me into his lap, fitting my legs between his long ones. I leaned back a little, so I wasn’t right up on the steering wheel, my back pressed against his chest.

Placing my hands on the wheel, he wrapped my fingers around it. “It’s like a clock,” he instructed. “You’re at ten o’clock and two o’clock right now.”

His fists tightened around mine, emphasizing my position.

I nodded, my belly still somersaulting like crazy.

“I’ll handle the pedals and the stick shift,” he told me. “You just steer.”

“Steer how?” I blurted out, tears of frustration springing to my eyes already. “We’re going to die.”

He snorted. “It’s an empty road,” he told me. “And at this hour, sure to be deserted. Relax.”

I shook my head, still unsure.

“Hey.” He nudged my chin, turning me to face him. “All you have to do is trust me, kid. You understand?”

I paused, feeling his eyes on me and his body behind me.

But the fear melted away. He was in charge, and he could do anything. I did trust him.

I nodded and then took a deep breath and turned my head forward again.

His legs shifted under me, his hand reached underneath mine, and suddenly, the car purred to life as he started the engine.

His right hand settled on the gear shift, moving it into position, and his breath fell on my neck as my fists grinded the steering wheel.

“You’re going to pull up onto the street, just to the left,” he explained. “When you feel all four tires on the smooth pavement, straighten out.”

I swallowed, nodding again. “Not too much gas at first, okay?”

All I heard was another laugh, though. Okay, so maybe I didn’t trust him.

“Giving it some gas,” he warned me, and the engine revved.

I shook the steering wheel side to side, nervous, but he hadn’t taken his foot off the brake…or the clutch or whatever yet, so we weren’t moving, and I relaxed again, feeling stupid.

He didn’t laugh at me, though.

A little more gas, and I felt the tires crunch the rocks underneath. I gripped the wheel so hard I was sure my hands would need to be pried off. The left front tire climbed over a bump, and I turned the wheel in that direction until I felt the right wheel join the other on the pavement.

I smiled, a combination between a laugh and a gasp pouring out of me, and as soon as I registered the rear tires climb onto the road, I twisted the wheel back to the right to make sure I stayed in my lane.

But then the car quickly fell off the road again, back onto the same rocks and grass I just drove away from, bouncing over the bump where the pavement ended.

“Oh, shit!” I turned the wheel left, taking us back onto the road. But I was afraid I would drive into the other lane and shot right again, both tires on the right side, falling off the side of the damn road again.

I can’t do this.

I shook my head, breathing hard as I tried to right myself. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

“Shhh,” he soothed, his left hand resting on my hip. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

My chin trembled, because I was embarrassed and frustrated, and I didn’t want to do this, because I would just make a fool out of myself. I was just going to fail! Why was he trying to embarrass me?

Tears pooled, the car slowed to a crawl, and I closed my eyes, breathing in and out to get my head straight again.

It’s okay. We’ve got all the time in the world.

We’ve got all the time in the world.

I blew out a long, slow breath.

It’s okay.

It’s okay.

He wasn’t rushing me. He wasn’t mocking me. He wasn’t hurrying me.

It was okay if I learned things a little slower. It was okay.

I sniffled, and even though he couldn’t see my face, he probably knew I was crying, but I stretched my fingers and gripped the wheel again.

“Okay,” I said.

He gave it some gas, and I pulled back onto the road, moving the steering wheel smaller this time, swerving the car side to side to find the edges of my lane, kind of like I do when I dance. Gauging the perimeter and counting time to feel for my mark.

The left tires ran over little bumps every few feet, and I realized they were reflectors in the middle of the road, so drivers could see their lanes at night.

That was my mark. How I could tell when I left my lane.

My shoulders relaxed just a little, and I sat up straighter. Okay.

I kept the wheel positioned in my lane, feeling when the right side would dip a little as it did right before it gave way to grass, and feeling the reflectors on the left, keeping me from veering into the opposing lane. My wheel wasn’t always straight, but we were going slow enough I could tell when the road curved just slightly in order to stay between my markers.

“You did it,” he whispered.

I broke out in a smile, my eyes still wet, but feeling a lot better than I did a few minutes ago. He didn’t teach me, either. He didn’t tell me about the reflectors or how to move the wheel or anything. He just waited for me to learn it on my own. It was a nice change and took the pressure off. It was nice not to feel hurried.

“We’re gonna go faster,” he told me.

Faster? And there went the relaxation and confidence I’d just been basking in.

“I’ll let you know which way to move the wheel, okay?”

“Okay,” I replied. It made sense. We’d be going faster, so I’d have less time to correct myself.

His legs moved under me, he shifted gears, and the car picked up pace, making my body jerk against him. Instinctively, I gripped the wheel harder and didn’t blink for a second as I tried to concentrate.

The engine roared, and I could feel the acceleration vibrate under my thighs as we barreled into the night where anything could come out at me too fast for two minds to react in sync. An animal, another car, a person… Jesus. Too fast. Too fast. The car rumbled under my feet, making my heart leap in my chest.

“The wheel is at noon,” he said. “When I say ‘go’, slowly and softly veer to the left, to about ten o’clock.”

I couldn’t swallow or speak, so I just nodded, curling my toes in fear. Shit.

“Go,” he said.

As he instructed, I gently turned the wheel a few inches, feeling the tires run over the reflectors, but instead of swerving in the other direction to correct myself, I found them with the very edge of my left tires and stayed on them. It would probably freak out oncoming traffic with my hugging the middle of the road like this, but I was able to manage the curves of the road all by myself.

“Okay, it’s gonna curve right in—”

“Shh,” I snapped, shutting him up.

I needed to listen.

And then, as he warned, the reflectors twisted right, and I needed to correct the wheel to follow it, surprisingly not going off the road like I half-expected.

“Jesus Christ,” he laughed, sounding impressed. “Okay, I’ll just take a nap. You have fun.”

“Don’t you dare!” I scolded.

We’d eventually come to an intersection, a street light, or a pedestrian. Plus, he worked the gas.

“Can we go faster?” I asked.

I’d been tensing and concentrating so hard, I wanted to be thrilled.

He shifted and accelerated, and if my count was right, we were in fourth or fifth gear.

“It’s pretty straight for the next couple of minutes,” he told me. “You want some music?”

I thought about it, realizing I could feel us running over the reflectors, and I didn’t necessarily need to hear them.

“Okay.”

He turned on his stereo, “Go to Hell” playing, and I relaxed back into him, my heart beating hard with the speed but still studying every little bump underneath us to keep us on the road.

An engine started to rumble from farther off, and the ground under me shook a little harder. What was that?

I turned my head to check with him, but all of a sudden, the wind whipped past us and a loud horn blared as a truck, I thought, zoomed right past us.

I gasped, feeling the car shake with the draft, and my hands shook on the wheel, feeling the reflectors underneath the right tires again. “Holy shit!”

I laughed, and I felt his body shake with his own laughter behind me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I barked but smiled. “We could’ve died!”

“Fun, huh?”

Asshole jerk.

And yes, it was fun.

“Ready for more?” he taunted.

“Yes.” I bit my bottom lip, butterflies still swarming my stomach, but I couldn’t stop.