Love Is Always Write Volume 4

explain how he'd managed to drive straight into the back of Nick's car. Nick glanced over at the almighty dent in the boot. Bloody hell, the guy better have insurance.
    Nick strode towards the young man. Nico would be an arsehole about it, probably get a baseball bat out and start beating the guy senseless. Nick would just be an arsehole. "What the fuck?"
    The lad's already wide blue eyes opened even wider. "Shit, I dunno what happened." He shook his head. Acting dumb.
    "You were being a complete dick, and you drove straight into me?" Nick offered.
    "Well...I dunno that..." The big blue eyes flickered upwards and Nick swore he could see the thoughts ticking around in his head. 'Never admit liability' he was thinking, and Nick wasn't having it.
    "You got insurance?"
    "Yeah, of course I have." The lad pulled himself up to full height, just slightly taller than Nick, and met Nick's eyes with an intense stare. "What about you?"
    The little shit. There was no way he was turning this around onto Nick.
    "Yeah, but it's not me that needs it. It's you who crashed into me ."
    The young man rolled his eyes like a spoilt teenager, brushed past Nick towards the car and dared to run his hand across the dent in the bumper. He raised his eyebrow at Nick. "Well, it looks like your car got off lightly." He glanced back at the mangled heap of metal on the ground. "My bike's fucked." His full lips pulled into a sulky pout.
    Nick started to wish for that baseball bat.
    There was a tug on his arm, and he turned to find an old guy with more dandruff than hair, pushing a piece of paper into his hand. "There's my number, if you need a witness."
    "Yeah, thanks," Nick told him, stuffing the soggy paper into his equally soggy pocket.
    "Do you need any help moving the car?" It was obvious the guy wanted to get going. Other people were getting back into their cars now the drama was over.
    "Nah mate, it'll be fine." Bugger off, baldy.
    The engine started first try and he manoeuvred the car onto the kerb. Some of the crowd had already dragged the bike over there. Nick gave people a nod of thanks as they drove off then wandered over to the young guy squatting miserably by the mangled bike looking sullen under the dark hair plastered to his face. "What's your name?"
    "Sam," the boy replied, his eyes fixed on the ground.
    "I'm Nick. I would say it's nice to meet you, but really , it's not." Nick allowed a little smile to creep onto his face. Nico had just about sodded off by now and he was back to being Nick. Yeah, he could be an arsehole about this, but it wouldn't change a thing. Besides there was something about this lad that made Nick's demeanour soften. And something else harden he noticed uncomfortably.
    A loud clap of thunder alerted them to the fact that the downpour wasn't letting up any time soon.
    "So, I guess we'd better exchange details, and then we can get on our way," Nick suggested.
    Sam gave the warped bike a swift kick. "Doesn't look like I'm going anywhere for a while."
    "No, I suppose not. Need a lift anywhere?"
    Sam's glum look brightened instantly. "Really? I 'ride like a dick', damage your car and you offer me a lift home?"
    "Yeah sure, why not?" Nick sighed.
    Why not indeed.
    ****
    Sam ran his hands over the soft leather seat as he got in. "Nice car."
    "Yeah. It was ."
    Sam chose to ignore that remark and chattered away at ninety-miles-an-hour for the rest of the journey. Nick couldn't work out if the speed of this one-sided conversation was due to shock, or if maybe, just maybe, Sam was always like this. No wonder he'd crashed.
    Nick had turned down the radio when he'd moved the car, and the music was at an acceptable level, although - unfortunately for Nick - it wasn't quite enough to drown out the incessant gabbling going on.
    At least not until one of Sam's favourite songs came on, when he reached right over to Nick's side and hammered his finger hard against the volume button in time with the music.
    "I love this one," he shouted over the noise. He started jigging about in his seat, singing along. He didn't have a bad voice, Nick noticed.
    "How old are you?" Nick asked.
    "Twenty-three. Why?"
    "Well, it's just kind of rude, turning up the volume on my stereo," Nick told him.
    "Is it?" Genuine surprise in his voice. "Sorry." He reached over and turned it back down.
    "How old are you ?" Sam asked. Probably having a little dig about the volume.
    "Thirty-seven."
    Sam nodded as if to say 'yeah, that explains it,' then carried