Enemies to Lovers Romance: Best of Penny Wylder by Penny Wylder

Author:Penny Wylder [Wylder, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-08T23:00:00+00:00

13

Selena

My heart races so fast I’m surprised Antonio can’t hear it beating from where he’s sitting, two feet away from me. In the passenger seat of Betty, the car I helpfully nearly ruined just a little over two weeks ago.

It’s taken me a long time to build up to this moment. An embarrassingly long time, frankly. But with Antonio next to me, being patient as hell with me while I work through this, I’m finally starting to feel like maybe… maybe I can handle it.

We started small last week. Just me sitting here, right where I am now, in the driver’s seat. Then just me sitting here with the engine turned on — even though at first I had to leave the radio turned on high to drown out my own panicked thinking, to mask the sound of the engine as much as possible.

After that, we graduated to what Antonio tried to have me do last time — steering the car while he was out behind it, pushing me in neutral. I may or may not have panicked and braked a few times unnecessarily, leading him to smack into the car from behind with a groan. But after a few tries and a few more bruises for him, I got the hang of that too. Of feeling the car move beneath me without freaking out. Of gripping the wheel in my hands and steering my way around the parking lot of the garage.

Now, though, Antonio has told me it’s time. Time to try the real thing again.

My heart flutters in my throat, my pulse skittering and anxious at the thought of what I’m about to do. My hand rests on the gear shift. I’m not ready to turn the key just yet.

“Just remember, take it slow,” Antonio murmurs from the seat beside me. “You can always stop, anytime it feels like too much.”

I nod my head, trying to concentrate on the familiar, deep rhythm of his voice, rather than the spiraling thoughts in my mind, chasing after one another, working into a frenzy. This is dangerous, the car is dangerous, you’re in danger, remember last time.

Over and over, those repetitive thoughts attack me, making me flash back to the night of the accident. To the broken glass, the crunch of metal. To my brother, unresponsive in the seat beside me — the very seat where I’m sitting now, as he bled from his forehead.

He was already dead, though I didn’t know it then. It took me days to accept it. Even longer to realize, deep down, that he was never coming back.

Tears burn at the backs of my eyelids and threaten to fall. But I suck in a deep breath, trying to hold them in at the same time, and reach up to grip the key. It feels cool between my thumb and forefinger. Solid and reassuring.

I turn it. The engine grumbles to life. But I still sit there, gripping the key, my mind a million miles and many years away.

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