Jaded (Rock Star Trilogy)

be careful with him. He tends to get in a lot of trouble.”
    “It's sweet that you're trying to be all protective, but trust me when I say I can handle an 18 year old wannabe bad boy.”
    “I'm not saying you can't handle him. I'm sure you can, Scarlett. I'm just saying... he might be bad for your good girl image.”
    I laugh. I'm far from being a good girl, but he's right, in Hollywood I am considered a good girl. I don't have any DUI's, there are no sex tapes of me, I didn't get pregnant before turning 18, and I haven't posed for Playboy, but I'm definitely not what I would consider good .
    “What kind of trouble are we talking about?” I ask. “I gave him a black eye yesterday, and that was just because he updated my Twitter. I think I can handle myself.”
    “That's not what I meant.”
    “Then what do you mean, Ethan?”
    “Nothing...” He sighs, and opens his math book. “Let's just study, ok?”
     
8:15 pm
You can't look hot and be comfortable.
     
    One hour later we are done studying, and I have a major stress headache. I don't feel like I've learned anything new. I'm also pretty sure that math is my kryptonite. Stephan is waiting for me downstairs.
    “You probably should have worn more comfortable shoes, Blondie,” Stephan tells me, looking at my four inch stilettos.
    “You told me to dress hot. You can't look hot and be comfortable ,” I say, shaking my head. Boys.
    “You'd look hot in anything...” he pauses, then adds, “or nothing. I'm ok with that option as well. Feel free to take your clothes off.”
    I roll my eyes. “Seriously, perv, if this is how it's going to be tonight, I will just go home.”
    “No, no,” he says. “I'll be good. I promise.”
    “Just remember – you will never see me naked. EVER .”
    His green eyes once again have me hypnotized. “One day soon, I will prove you wrong. And when I do, I am going to remind you of this very conversation.”
    Yeah, it just got hot again.
    I look at his car, and can't help but smile. He's driving a 1971 Dodge Challenger. It's black, and I love it. “Seriously, your car is amazing .”
    “You like classic cars?” he asks.
    “Um, yes! I love them. I'm actually thinking of getting a '69 Boss 429 from my friend Alec. It is candy apple red, and it is beautiful. He fixed it up last year, and it's been sitting in his garage with his other cars. I told him a car like that deserves to be driven.”
    “I think you should get it.”
    “I think I will.” Stephan opens up the car door for me, and I'm in shock. I look up at him. “You are the only guy who has ever opened the door for me, besides my limo driver.” I get inside. “I'm pretty sure this gives you a ton of extra awesome points.”
    “Wow. So you've only been out with jerks.” He shuts my door, and walks around the car. I'm smiling the whole time. He starts the car, and the engine roars to life. The whole car rumbles as it idles in his driveway.
    “This is what I love about old cars,” I say. “My Sesto Elemento is so smooth, and sleek, but this... This car is how a sports car should be. I love how I can feel the vibration of the engine.”
    I'm seriously turned on by his car.
    “A girl who can play the guitar, drives a Lamborghini, and likes classic cars,” he sighs happily. “Where have you been all my life?”
    I laugh. “So where are you taking me?”
    “It's a surprise,” he says, then takes off squealing his tires. The car jerks as he shifts. It is very different from what I'm used to, but I like it. It makes riding more intense.
    “Well, do I at least get to drive your car at some point?” I ask, hopeful.
    “Only if I can drive yours.”
    “Which one?” I ask.
    “You have more than one?” he looks surprised for half a second. “You know, I keep forgetting you're like a millionaire rock star.”
    “I'm going to take that as a compliment.”
    “So, the car you're thinking of buying,” he starts, “I think you should get it. It would be a great investment. Plus, after tonight, you'll probably want it.”
    He turns onto a gravel road that looks like it leads to nowhere. We go down for about 2 miles, then he turns right into a house. It's a small house, but we drive past it and drive for another 5 minutes. I see a sign that says “ Jepsen Race Track ”. We pull up to a small race track. There are about 20 cars parked around it.
    “Racing?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
    “Oh this isn't where we race,” he smiles. “This is where we