The Space Within (The Book of Phoenix #3) by Kristie Cook Page A

formed between his eyebrows as his gaze traveled to the back seat where pretty much everything I owned was piled. The rest was in the trunk, which I popped open when Brandon got out and circled the car again.
    “It’s pretty roomy,” I said, motioning my hand toward the trunk.
    Brandon nodded appreciatively, but Brock’s dark brows pushed together again. He turned his head toward me, and his chocolate eyes narrowed. Something about his gaze caused a shiver up my spine.
    “Um … do you want to take her for a test drive?” I asked as I looked back at Brandon. The thought made me nervous, getting into the car with a strange guy, but I didn’t have much choice unless I let him take it on his own, along with my life’s possessions.
    “Definitely,” he said eagerly. I almost rolled my eyes. The dude obviously wasn’t used to negotiating—I could already tell I’d get my asking price from him. That probably came from growing up as a spoiled brat. I was surprised he was even looking at a used car in the first place, even if she was souped up with top-of-the-line bells and whistles and had fewer than ten thousand miles on her.
    “Hold on a second,” Brock said, lifting his hand toward Brandon while his narrowed gaze remained focused on me.
    The same hand moved toward me, and I flinched. When his fingers wrapped around my upper arm in a gentle but firm hold, my own hand fisted, ready to punch him in the stomach if necessary. Except I’d lost all control over my body at his touch. An odd sensation tumbled through me, and my bones felt as though they were melting into liquid within my flesh. My mind blocked out everything except the feeling of his skin against mine. As he pulled me a few feet away from Brandon and the car, something tugged at my subconscious, as if trying to pull it through the surface of a memory. But the sensation fled as soon as he let go of me. It had all been so quick, I was sure I’d imagined everything.
    “Are you living out of your car?” Brock demanded. I blinked, and any remnant of the odd feeling disappeared. Sheesh. I’d thought his mother was direct!
    I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin. “No.”
    His brows shot up, wrinkling his forehead. “So you’re telling me you always keep all that stuff in there?”
    “I’m in the process of moving,” I said defiantly.
    His hands went to his hips, and he leaned toward me.
    “Where?” he challenged.
    “None of your business,” I snapped. “Do you really think I’m going to tell two strange guys where I live?”
    His dark eyes studied me for a long moment, and then he pulled back. “Touché. So what kind of job did you find?”
    He was taking another angle. How had he figured all of this out? I’d met him for two minutes, talked to his mom for maybe twenty, and he acted like he knew everything about me.
    Now my eyes narrowed. “Again—none of your business.”
    He stared at me for another ridiculously long moment until I had to look away because of the awkwardness. And maybe because of the look in his eyes that had me shivering and melting at the same time.
    “You’re not getting the car, Brandon,” he said while his gaze stayed trained on me. I could feel the burn of it, as though he bore holes into the side of my head.
    “Bullshit,” Brandon said, leaning against the Camaro as though he already owned it. “You may have seen the sign first, but you gotta be responsible, remember?”
    “I’m not buying it either,” Brock said.
    My head snapped toward him. “What the hell? Who do you think you are? Brandon, if you’d like to take her for a drive, let’s go.”
    I strode for the passenger’s side.
    “Brandon, if you get in that car, I’m never helping your ass again,” Brock said.
    Brandon stalked over to his friend who towered over his shorter and thinner frame. Still, he bowed up. “Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?”
    Brock dropped his voice to the point where I couldn’t hear him, and they