Best Served Fake

eight // everyone saw my boob

The last thing I expected to see when I stepped out of the café, a few minutes after Cora and Mum had left, was Kai Delaney leaning against a black truck, staring at the crushed side of my car.

He was looking decidedly unrumpled and perfect, which was a little bit unfair considering I was puking the last time he'd seen me. And I wasn't exactly looking like a runway model now. Though, I didn't imagine he would spend much time looking at me, giving his attention was fixated on the damage. Damage that looked... not great.

His jaw was ticking, his knuckles were clenched, and he was staring at the crumpled metal with an expression nothing at all like his usual self-assured smirk. He was frowning at the scene before him, almost in disbelief.

"Well," I said, when I was close enough for Kai to hear me. He whirled around at the sound of my voice; eyes wide and guilty. I nodded towards my poor car. "That doesn't seem particularly ideal."

I surveyed the damage. Drivable, but still notably in need of repair. Insurance would cover most of the cost, but it would still be a few thousand dollars worth to cover. Brilliant.

I couldn't muster up the energy to be mad. Yesterday had wrung me out and left me to dry. And crushing my baby, while rather unfortunate, was at least accidental. It's not like Kai had purposefully and repeatedly rammed into her, as Tommy had with Sydney. Instead, I just eyed the damage with a critical eye, and turned to face Kai.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips. "Not really, no."

I tilted my head and squinted at him, eyeing the angle of the hit to the car, and the size of the parking space beside it. It was the front door of the car that was hit; he'd have had to try to park basically sideways, which was ludicrous. I didn't think I could hit a car like that if tried. How did he even—? "You are a terrible driver," I said simply. "Like, genuinely awful. Or maybe even good? Because to hit that car from that angle is like... that would be very hard to do."

Kai ran a hand through his hair, stress crinkling the corners of his eyes. "I didn't—" then he inhaled sharply, looking over at me with a sort of apprehension that quickly evaporated into an easy grin. "I guess I'm not auditioning for the Formula 1 any time soon."

"I wouldn't quit your day job."

Kai snorted a laugh, and it made me smile, just a little bit.

Because I did like Kai Delaney, to an extent. I always had. We weren't friends; not really. But the hair brained schemes I'd concocted with Sydney over the years meant that I knew Kai, had spent time with him, and even though he was a little arrogant, an incorrigible flirt and, most of the time, a dick, I couldn't help but like him anyway.

"Thanks for the shirt, by the way," I told him.

"I was told to look after you," Kai said, waving it off. Then he grinned, properly. "Besides, saving a damsel in distress is a good look. And saving a damsel in distress while shirtless is an excellent look. I got four phone numbers." He looked rather proud of himself.

"Would you like an award for that?"

"Maybe," he said. He leaned toward me, just a little bit, and I could've sworn his eyelashes fluttered a little. I had to smother a laugh. "Or you could repay me in other ways."

I cupped his cheek with my hand, my eyes innocent. Kai was still letting a flirty smile play about his lips, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Did this guy really think...? I suppose he'd never had any reason not to; most of the time, girls were coming on to him. Hell, if it hadn't been for Sydney and her persistent obsession with him, and the two years I'd dated Tommy, I'd probably have been one of them. And really, the idea of shamelessly flirting with Kai Delaney wasn't the worst one to cross my mind.