Driving Mr. Dead by Harper Molly

Author:Harper, Molly [Harper, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Published: 2012-01-30T16:00:00+00:00

I was standing in the middle of a crowded, smoky concert venue, one of those run-down old taverns that try to draw in the younger crowds with watered-down beer and concentrated bad ’80s rock. A mosh pit had formed around me like a sea storm of bodies, twitching and bashing against one another because the occupants were so bored with the band that being knocked unconscious seemed like a better entertainment alternative. I was battered by the waves of unwashed bodies, tempted to drop to my knees and crawl to the nearest fire exit. But that would mean touching the floor, and even in my dreams, I wasn’t going to do that.

A squeal of guitar feedback caught my attention. Collin was standing onstage, the veins and tendons standing stark under his pale skin as he sang, “ ’Cause I’m a LIAR!”

The sight of straight-laced, polished Collin, shirtless and sweaty—and with a pulse, if that angry red flush to his cheeks was any indication—was enough of a shock that I froze. And I was whacked in the face with a flying combat boot for my troubles. Still, it didn’t break the spell of Collin’s stage presence, especially when he looked right at me, blue eyes blazing, and screamed, “Yeah, I’m a LIAR!”

Jerking awake, I sat up slowly, my mouth dry and my head fuzzy. A bit of drool had dried against my cheek, and I swiped at it vigorously. “What the hell?”

My cell phone was blaring Jason’s ringtone from the center console. Fumbling for it, I pressed my thumb to what I thought was the “ignore” button. But my fingertip slid across the screen, and I hit “speakerphone.”

“Oh, shoot,” I hissed, cursing my ineffectual thumbs.

There was a weird thumping noise on the other end of the line and the tumbling crash of furniture being knocked over. I huffed, rolling my eyes. Jason must have ass-dialed me again. I’d almost hit “end” when I heard her.

“Jason!” a high-pitched female voice squealed from the phone. “No tickles! You promised!”

“I’m going to get you,” Jason sing-songed in the stupid voice he sometimes used as “Playful Sex Jason.”

My jaw dropped as I stared at the phone in my hand, transfixed by the source of the obscene giggling.

“No!” the woman squealed, clearly delighted with Playful Sex Jason. More delighted than I can remember being in months. “No, Jason, not the knees!”

“Yes, the knees,” Jason insisted, and I could hear sloppy kissing noises smacking through the receiver. There was a weird muffled thumping sound and more squeals. Jason groaned, and the girl sighed happily. There was another clear, hard thump. And another … and another … and another.

I guessed the “emotional affair” had taken a turn for the naked.

“Lisa!” Jason moaned. “Oh, Lisa, baby, I love you so much.”

“What?” I yelled at my phone. “You son of a bitch!”

Collin snatched the device out of my hands and hit “end,” just as Lisa’s rapturous moans hit a crescendo.

“You didn’t need to hear more,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes on the road.

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