Sinful Thoughts
“I cannot believe this.”
“Cannot believe what?”
“You do not drive a Tesla.”
Brooke shrugged, opening the driver’s side door and gesturing her into the car.
“Yes, actually, I do. Get in before I change my mind and leave you out here in the cold.”
Kate stared at the car, unable to move.
Brooke’s Tesla (she ACTUALLY drove a Tesla and Kate could NOT get over it) was painted a slick forest green, that reflected oddly in the street lights and white glow from the windows of the nearby police station.
(Her crush had just gotten so much worse.)
“Is this a joke?” She muttered under her breath.
“My jokes aren’t that funny, Kate.” Brooke said, opening the passenger side door for her. “Now, get in. You’ll let all the warmth out if you just stand there.”
She, almost automatically, sat down in the seat of-
Of Brooke’s Tesla.
(Maybe Mom would approve if she knew about this?)
She silenced the voice, starting to feel a little nauseous again.
She wasn’t thinking about that right now.
The car hummed slightly beneath her as she closed the door, a little more gingerly then was strictly necessary.
It was warm in the car.
The light of the tablet screen on the dashboard between them reflected in Brooke’s eyes, and oh lord in heaven.
I will not think sinful thoughts.
I will not think sinful thoughts.
I will not think sinful thoughts.
(Oh, no, she couldn’t possibly. Couldn’t think for even a moment about how the light played against Brooke’s skin, and how it would glint against Kate’s nails if she leaned over to press her lips to Brooke’s neck-)
I will not think sinful thoughts.
(And how it would glint off Brooke’s perfectly white teeth when her lips parted, to let out a breathy little moan-)
I WILL NOT THINK SINFUL THOUGHTS.
“Kate? Still with us?”
She blinked, bringing herself crashing back to earth quite forcefully.
“Huh? Sorry, uhm - what did you say?”
“I was asking if you wanted to drive.” Brooke said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Kate blinked.
Again.
“...Huh?”
Brooke rolled her eyes.
“You really are incapable of understanding the basics of human speech, aren’t you?”
Kate glared at her weakly, and very much didn’t think about how Brooke’s eyes reflected in the light.
“I asked if you wanted to drive, you absolute schlemiel.”
“I… uhm.”
Did she?
“That’s… I would love too, Brooke.”
Brooke glanced at her - and her eyes sparkled slightly, in that way that told Kate she was holding back a smile.
“Don’t crash.”
And with that, Brooke stepped out of the car.
Kate slid into the driver’s side - and her fingers held the wheel gingerly, like it was a priceless artifact.
The door slammed closed across from her, and she startled slightly.
“Alright - take us back to the school.”
Suddenly, though, Brooke stopped - looking up like something on the ceiling had caught her attention.
“Actually - I’d like to get something to eat first. To Hardee’s, if you will - they have good fries.”
“Can… I get something too?”
Brooke glanced at her, and gave her a look like she was an absolute idiot.
“Of course.”
Kate felt a little heat crawl into her cheeks - and stared at the windshield to keep from glancing at Brooke.
Brooke, who still had her hair down, and was still wearing those skin-tight jeans with tears at the knees.
Brooke, who had a Tesla.
She gently lowered the gas pedal.
Brooke was in the interesting and very new position of riding shotgun in her own Tesla.
She preferred driving, but this worked fine too.
She had never been happier to have gotten those driver’s ed classes. Actually driving made the monotony worth it.
But Kate driving her around was... odd.
She could so clearly see a world in which Kate was her private chauffeur. And she wasn’t a bad driver at all - certainly not as careful about it as a lot of other women Brooke knew. Hell, she was actually starting to push the speed limit by now. Who knew the Christian girl was a careless driver.
She glanced at Kate, who was holding the wheel in a white-knuckle grip and staring out at the street like it was a very dangerous foe.
(She should really relax.)
“Not so tight, Marsh.”
Kate glanced at her hands - and seemed surprised when she saw them holding the wheel in a death grip.
She relaxed a little.
“Sorry.”
Brooke blinked.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
Kate didn’t say anything to that.
Brooke glanced at her again.
The lights played on her hazel eyes. The street lamps glittered against her pupils like stars.
(Her stomach turned.)
Oh. Oh, Christ, that was sickening.
Anxiety, it must be. For the car, probably - she was worried Kate would crash it.
Nonsensical. Kate was perfectly capable. But she supposed anxiety was always a little nonsensical.
(She’d never had nonsensical fears before, though.)
She glanced at Kate again.
“You put your hair up again.”
Kate blinked, but didn’t look away from the windshield.
“Yeah?”
“Why.” Brooke said, flatly.
“...It looks better?” Kate offered, tilting her head towards Brooke without looking away from the road.
“No, it really doesn’t.” Brooke said. “You should really let it out.”
“I can’t really do that right now.” Kate said, tilting her head towards the road.
Brooke considered.
And then reached over across the seat.
Kate went very, very tense.
Brooke, gingerly, ran her hands through Kate’s hair - and pulled it out of its bun.
It fell.
Brooke, quickly, reached forward to pull it back from Kate’s face - so it cascaded down her back instead.
Her nails, very gently, scraped against Kate’s neck.
And Kate shuddered.
Brooke stopped.
“...Are you cold?”
“Huh? What?” Kate said, a little louder then Brooke thought was strictly necessary.
“You shivered.”
“I - I did? I… uhm. I hadn’t - I mean, I didn’t really... no, I-I’m not cold.”
“Are you sure? You’re stuttering too.”
Brooke peered at Kate, very carefully - and couldn’t help but notice that the line of her spine had never been more tense, and that a light pink flush was starting to creep up her neck.
The flush was just more evidence she was cold. She wasn’t sure what the tension meant - but it was probably just because she was uncomfortable. Again, as could be explained by the cold.
“I’ll turn the heat up.”
She reached for the dash - ignoring Kate’s insistence that ‘I’m fine, really, you don’t need to-’ - and swiped the screen, fiddling with some settings.
Kate fidgeted across from her.
(She really did look much better with her hair down.)