The guys’ eyes narrow, but I catch him slink back slightly. “I’m not dealing with a bunch of street thugs,” he quips.

“You want to raise your voice and get in someone’s face like that, you should expect to deal with something a whole hell of a lot scarier than a street thug. I can guarantee if you do it to them again, that will be me.” King’s not much taller than the driver, but his head is tilted to look down at him.

Summer’s shoulder brushes against mine, making me realize how stiff my muscles are, and I’m fairly certain they’re also shaking slightly, vibrating with anger and adrenaline.

“Get your shit out of your car,” Kash orders.

The stranger turns with a huff and retreats to his car, where Kash shadows him. King’s eyes follow them, and Parker takes a couple of steps closer to the cars as if anticipating the opportunity to throw a punch.

“I should get my stuff too,” Summer says, retreating to her car. King moves a few steps forward so that he’s closer to her.

“What’s going on?” Julio—one of the masterminds to the delicious food of Sonar—is breathless, his eyes alert as he scans the sidewalk.

“Nothing. That guy was just being a dick.”

“Who are the other guys?”

“My boss and his brother, and their friend,” I reply, wiping a wet piece of hair out of my face.

“Mia said he was yelling at you!”

“He doesn’t like being wrong.”

Julio laughs. It’s loud and a refreshing contrast to the anger that just transpired. It makes my lips lift and my lungs expand with a deeper, fuller breath of air. “We’ve got it covered. You can go inside.”

He reaches over and messes my hair up before retreating.

I release my ponytail and notice the guy turn and shoot an angry glare in my direction. My hands stop from securing my hair, falling to my sides. I raise my chin and eyebrows with a silent challenge, then Kash steps in front of him, muttering threats that don’t reach my ears.

It takes only a few brief moments for the correct information to be shared, and then the guy is back in his car, mumbling something as he backs up and waits for a window in the heavy commute traffic to leave.

King’s shoulders sink slightly as he watches the car disappear. Then he turns, his hand digging around in his pocket, and he sorts through a handful of its contents and flips three pennies to the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my brows drawing down as I watch one roll into a shallow puddle, because in Oregon, puddles are everywhere, including on the sidewalks.

King’s face is still mostly tilted downward from watching the pennies when his eyes meet mine. “Call me the Genie.”

“What?”

His shoulders roll casually in a shrug. “Sometimes people need a reason to think their luck is changing.”

I hate that I find that so entrancing. He’s right; people view lost pennies as a sign of good fortune, a chance to right a wrong, karma’s nod of approval.

“Let’s get something to eat. You guys need to warm up,” Kash says.

“That’s alright. I think I’m just going to head home,” I object.

“No way. We’re going to go get a drink after that,” Summer says. I turn to her, another excuse already lined up, and she shakes her head, pursing her lips. “Don’t even try it. Get in the car.”

“I’m going to drive your ride,” Kash says.

“What? It’s not like he broke it! He just fucked up my bumper.”

“Yeah, but if something happened—”

“Don’t feed me that line of bullshit! You just like my truck better than yours.”

There’s a collective laugh as though this has been discussed previously.

“I’ve got my bike in the back. Since it’s raining and I don’t have my top on, we need to get out of here. Where’d you park, Lo?” she asks.

“I rode the bus.”

All of them turn to look at me with a similar look of confusion that dissipates as the rain picks up. “Come on, Lo. You can ride with us,” Parker says.

Kash tosses a small wad of keys across the space that Parker picks out of the air. “Don’t let King drive. He’s got a target on his ass.”

King grumbles an objection but moves to the passenger door.

“Wait!” Kash shouts. He moves to the back of the car and lowers to a knee, looking under the vehicle. “We’re leaking something.”

King changes direction and gets down to look beside Kash. The two confer for a few minutes before Summer lets out a frustrated growl and the three move back over to us with Kash carrying her bike. He deposits it into the bed and then collects his keys from Parker and opens the driver’s door. Summer slides into the passenger seat while Parker gets in the back. I stand on the sidewalk and release a deep breath before stepping past where King is holding the back passenger door open expectantly.

“How in the hell did you guys get here so fast?” Summer asks, turning in her seat to face Kash.

“I was calling to tell you we were coming and you didn’t answer, so I called Lo. She said something about a situation and I heard that bastard yelling,” Kash explains.

“He was a bastard,” Summer says quietly in agreement. “But you should have seen Lo! Seriously! My mind is blown!”

“We saw,” Parker says from beside me. “You were completely chill as you stood there. He was pissed you weren’t intimidated.”

“He was just trying to act tough,” I say dismissively.

“Seriously though, you looked like you were ready to throw down with him.” Summer turns in her seat to face me. “Like you wanted him to try something so you could hit him back.”

A soft laugh breaks through my lips. “I prefer to go into situations like that with a pair of steel-toed boots. I knew this wasn’t going to be anything.”

“What?” she shrieks, giggling as her head falls back. “Don’t tell me you know how to kick a guy’s ass.”

I smile in reply and then voice an honest no when they all turn, seeking an answer. “I’ve been known to stare too long when I people-watch. He was slow, in a suit which restricts movement and reactions, and his hands were super soft. There’s no way he works out.” I shrug. “He wasn’t a big threat.”

“You knew that from looking at him for like ten seconds?”

“Some people are easy to read.”

“Have you kicked someone with steel-toed boots before?” Parker’s voice is anxious with anticipation.

“No.” I quietly laugh once more. “That was a joke.”

Parker looks genuinely disappointed by my response and then moves his attention forward and questions Kash about Summer’s truck.

“What’s that?” King’s voice is so soft it takes me by surprise. His index finger brushes against the blue ink staining my skin.

I look up at him, noting too many details in the few seconds of silence shared between us. “His plates.”

King licks the pad of his right thumb and wraps his fingers around my wrist, bringing my arm to the small space between our legs. His thumb rubs across the sensitive area with an obvious intention, but it’s gentle and slow in an attempt to not irritate the area. The friction he creates is warm and distracts me from everything being said and done around us. He rubs until his thumb and my wrist are both dry, the numbers slightly faded. I glance up at him when his thumb hovers over the most prominent of the characters remaining, and his eyelids lower, reflecting a pain that I don’t understand. His thumb settles against my wrist with the slightest pressure. I work to remain casual and unaffected, but I’m sure he knows otherwise. I’m certain he can feel just how much he affects me while my heart thrums under his touch. Voices are light, joking as we go. I can tell based on the tones, but that’s all that registers. I’m obsessing over why King is touching me, and if he would be if the shadows of our legs and night weren’t cloaking so much.

As King opens the rear passenger door, his hand slides from my wrist and his body turns away without glancing back at me. He’s out of the car in a second and slamming the door closed within the next. Why did I let him touch me? Why did I come back here? I already know the answer—it’s because as much as I want to dislike, hate, even loathe King, I can’t, and that’s slowly making me despise myself.