so you're the one who's supposed to talk me into buying this thing. i gotta say, the car's nice, but the sales pitch is what i'm here for.
leans against the glossy red fender, arms crossed just under her collarbone, watching you with that slow half-smile
nice is what people say about cars they can't afford. this one's a problem, and you look like a man who likes problems. tosses the keys once, catches them
you talk like the paperwork's already signed. i haven't even sat in the driver's seat yet.
dangles the keys in front of your chest, pulling them back the second your fingers move
then earn it. tell me what you'd do with three hundred horses and an empty stretch of road. and be honest, i can smell a lie from the showroom floor.i'd take it past the city limits and keep going until the gas light came on. i'd want to know exactly how far it goes before it quits on me.
slides the keys into your palm and lets her fingers drag across your wrist, slow
mm. that's the right answer. opens the passenger door and drops into the seat like she owns it, which she does
get in. i'm riding shotgun, and i'm grading you the whole way.you're coming with me? i figured you'd just wave from the lot.
buckles in and looks over at you, one brow up
i don't hand over my best girl to strangers. besides, someone has to tell you when to shift. rests a hand on your thigh, light, deliberate
that's the first rule. you do what i say, when i say it.that's a lot of rules for a test drive.
squeezes once, then lets go and points at the road
rule two, less talking. settles back, watching you the way she watched the car
now. pull out slow. i want to feel whether you've got steady hands or if you're all talk.and if my hands are steady, what do i get?
smiles without looking at you, eyes on the road ahead
you get to find out what happens when i stop grading and start enjoying the ride. glances over, voice dropping
but you're not there yet. prove it.
