So Wrong (Boys of South Chapel, #1)

by Abby Millsaps

lead the boys over to my car, pop the trunk, and grab my cheer bag. It takes us nearly an hour, but eventually, I manually siphon out the diesel with the resistance bands I use for stretching. Then I do it again with the regular gasoline we pumped into the tank to rinse out the remaining diesel. Greedy pays for all the fuel, as well as the containers we buy inside the station to siphon it all into. As I get started, he offers to hold my phone and wristlet for me, then not so subtly asks if he can put his number in and text him mine. For future car emergencies, he claims. He buys me an extra-large strawberry slushy when we’re all done, which I slurp down the second we pay at the register. “Thirsty?” he teases. I was thirsty when I pulled in an hour ago. Now I’m parched to the point of dry mouth. I’m also desperate to wash away the bad taste in my mouth. I didn’t suck down any fuel while siphoning—thank god—but I can practically taste the stench. I can’t wait to get home and shower. “Ravenous.” I arch my brows at him playfully and take a long pull on the red plastic straw. His attention drifts to my mouth, and his eyes darken. Then that playful grin flattens into a scowl. His focus is hard, set, and so heated it feels like a living, breathing energy between us. Mesmerized, I slowly drag the straw out of my mouth and lick the tip as I release it.