“Your friends can wait an hour,” I pressed. “If Ms. Bradbury came, would you be less bored?”

No sense in coddling him with a softer approach. My son wasn’t an idiot, and I wouldn’t try to play him like one.

“Thanks, but I need to get home,” Easton interrupted.

“Christian?” I prompted him for an answer, ignoring Easton’s protest.

He looked between his teacher and me, seeming to consider it. “Can I drive?” he asked.

The corner of my mouth lifted, actually liking his boldness.

When I didn’t answer right away, Easton stepped in, urging me.

“No, he can’t drive,” she answered for me. “Ty—” She stopped and corrected herself. “Mr. Marek, he doesn’t have a permit,” she pointed out.

I eyed Christian. “Have you ever driven before?”

“Not in the city but yes.”

I nodded, giving in.

He turned and started walking for the parking lot, and I followed, glancing behind me to a baffled Easton.

“Get in the car,” I ordered. “Don’t act like you’re thinking about saying no.”

“No, wait,” Easton burst out. “That’s a light!”

“Shit,” Christian cursed, and I shot him a glare. I didn’t have a huge problem with swearing, and I didn’t mind him working me a little, but I didn’t want him taking advantage. Fourteen-year-olds shouldn’t swear, especially not in front of their parents.

He’d stopped at the red light, just like a pro, but after a second he started to go through it, thinking it was just a stop sign.

“It’s confusing,” he barked. “There are so many stop signs, it throws me off when they have a light instead.”

“And half the streets are only one way,” Easton added from the backseat.

“And land in the wrong pothole,” I contributed, “you could total your car. My car,” I corrected, shooting him a warning look. “So be careful.”

After Patrick had tossed the keys to Christian, we’d offered to give him a lift home for the night, but he’d said he’d rather take the streetcar, so the three of us just left together. Christian drove with me in the passenger seat, and Easton sat in the rear-facing seats behind Christian. All I had to do was look to my left and there she was.

“So many issues with the streets.” She shook her head. “I don’t suppose fixing any of these problems are on your platform.”

“No, but I can get you in touch with the mayor,” I replied, resting my elbow over the back of the seat.

The light turned, and Christian pulled forward, cruising the streets easily but looking a little nervous. I suspected he’d driven four-wheelers out in the country but never a big SUV on busy city streets. Thankfully, we were off the main avenues and coasting through the quieter, less-populated neighborhoods.

I glanced back at Easton, seeing her watching the road as well. With both of us, we were probably making Christian more nervous, but she was right. He was only fourteen, and if he got into trouble, he might find being Tyler Marek’s son finally somewhat useful.

“There’s no parking.” He scowled, scanning the space in front of the shop.

Easton pointed to the right, just a few yards ahead. “Right there.”

Christian jerked the wheel right and slid into the spot between two cars, his front end in the clear, but the back end still sticking out into the street. I turned away, not wanting him to see my smile at his attempt at parallel parking.

This was a big car. For a space that tight, he’d have to back into it.

“Shit,” he cursed again. “This is ridiculous.”

I shook my head. “First, stop swearing,” I ordered. “And second, you’ve lived here your entire life. Haven’t you ever paid attention to your mother while she drove, or were you too busy playing on your phone?”

“And what do you do while Patrick carts you around town?” Easton blurted out.

Christian laughed, and I pursed my lips in annoyance.

“Hey, how’d you know our chauffeur’s name?” Christian asked, looking at Easton through the rearview mirror.

I caught Easton’s eye as she clearly realized her mistake.

But she blew it off and changed the subject. Looking out the back window and seeing a car go past, she instructed Christian, “Okay, back out and pull up right next to the car ahead of you.”

Christian gripped the wheel, looking worried. But he followed her instructions. After backing out, he pulled ahead and lined up with the car next to him.

“Okay —” Easton started, but Christian cut her off.

“But I’m in the driving lane,” he protested. “There are people behind me waiting.”

“And they’ll wait,” she assured him patiently.

I watched as she instructed him and led him back into the parking space with ease, and I was surprised by how different she was with him from with me.

Not that our interactions were bad, but she was almost never calm. With him, she stayed controlled and relaxed, easing his nerves about the cars behind us waiting to get by and stopping and correcting him without sounding brusque.

She was good with him and slid into her role with ease. I smiled to myself.

It was funny that I liked her being so calm with him while hoping she would never be that way with me.

Christian put the car in park and broke out in a huge smile. “I did it.”