friendofcasper (friendofcasper) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2020-11-01 10:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | ellie sawyer, flynn russo |
Sidewalk Art
Who: Ellie/Flynn
What: Bumping Into Each Other
Where: Las Vegas, Street/Bar Code Burger Bar
When: Present
Ratings/Warnings: Low
Flynn Russo was walking down Fremont, trying to ignore the older man who was keeping pace beside him, talking a mile a minute about how things were done in his day. The man was wearing a fedora, an unlit cigar hanging out of his mouth, hands buried in the pockets of a cheap, slouchy plaid suit.
The younger man stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched as he tried to drown it out. There was too much going on, though. Lights and noises and passersby. Why did he come here again? Flynn had gotten bored, an itch to wander that didn’t come around too often.
Finally, he rounded on the old man. “Look, I don’t care if Ol’ Blue Eyes ran over your dog or didn’t pay you back that 2 dollars or whatever the hell it is you’re saying! Leave me alone.” A few people paused to stare at Flynn, who appeared to be yelling at thin air, then walked carefully around him.
Agitated, he turned away from the disgruntled spirit, trying to calm his nerves but not really focused on anything in front of him. He nearly walked right into a woman passing in the opposite direction.
The bag of supplies hit the ground with a soft sound, and the bottom split open, urging art supplies to go rolling across the busy sidewalk. Ellie blinked. It took her a moment to realize that she actually crashed into someone, and almost immediately her eyes widened, the bright blues full of lights from overhead.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” she said, her southern accent causing the words to draw out a bit.
A passerby paused to pick up a tube of paint, while another at her left stepped on another sending a hearty splotch of violet smattering across the sidewalk.
And then she realized she no longer toted the weight of her purchase, casting those dancing eyes to the ground. “Well, there went that.” Her head went from one side to the other, trying to figure out where to even start trying to salvage the bit of a mess.
Flynn watched as art supplies went flying and the woman began apologizing. “No, this is totally my fault. I’m sorry.” He knelt down, trying to grab what he could before everything got stepped on. “I wasn’t paying attention. I’ll pay for whatever gets ruined.” He winced as the tube of violet paint did a toothpaste impression on the sidewalk.
He straightened, a few brushes and paints in his hands, a chagrined expression on his face. “I wasn’t paying attention. Wait, I said that already.” Flynn shook his head, a few strands of dark brown hair falling over his forehead.
There was an old dab of teal high up on her cheek that she’d missed during the morning rinse, but her focus was on recovery at this point. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied, taking a moment to glance up. A smile would be offered, and then her head dropped again to hide the redness flowing into her cheeks. “Thanks for helping, I really appreciate it — “ There went another tube, yellow, crushed beneath a high heeled boot.
But fortunately the pair of them managed to salvage the rest. Ellie tucked the broken bag and loose supplies into her shoulder bag, and then moved to stand up. Her knees popped a bit.
“I guess the sidewalk could use a makeover, anyway.”
Flynn couldn’t help but smile, especially when he caught the dab of paint on her face like a colorful little freckle. “Yeah, that’s a good way to look at it.” And then he stepped over to the tube, using his foot to make it draw a sloppy, violet heart.
“There. A Flynn original. With support by...what’s your name?” He grinned.
Her eyes caught the movement and the outline of the shape, which only served to make her cheeks flame up brighter. “Oh, you have to sign it or it never happened,” Ellie teased. She assumed he was Flynn by the way he said the name. “Ellie,” she offered, extending a hand out after a second or two of internal back and forth about it.
“You aren’t a terrible painter,” Ellie offered. Her smile twisted into something a touch more playful. “I can almost tell that it’s an actual shape.”
He grinned as he shook her hand. “Ellie. Nice to meet a fellow patron of the arts.” Flynn looked over at the jagged, purple smear and gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s abstract. It’s supposed to evoke the feeling of a heart. Hang on.”
He knelt down again, dipping his left index finger into the paint, and sloppily signed his name. People stared at him again, though this time not for talking to nobody, which was a nice change of pace. “There.” Flynn stood up and returned to Ellie’s side.
She bit back a giggle and watched the signature unfold “There, now it’s an original. I bet you could get some good money for that, too.” And then she did laugh this time, a warm sound. “Do you sidewalk paint often?”
Now and then she caught sight of a few people who illustrated panels of the sidewalk for money, and most of them were exceptional. Chalk was a messy medium to work with, and every time she had used it, she found herself with streaks of green or blue in her hair with no idea how they had gotten there.
“Nope, this is my first time. You couldn’t tell?” He tipped his head, smiling. The specter that had been following and aggravating him was forgotten. A large group of what appeared to be intoxicated tourists were about to collide with them, and he gently tugged Ellie out of their way, off to the side.
“Another close call,” Flynn explained. “I didn’t want you getting swept up in that crowd. I’d lose my artistic backer.”
“Not bad for your first time,” she added, moving with Flynn’s guidance as someone nearly collided with her again. This time she avoided being swept up in the rushing crowd. “Thanks.” Over her shoulder she looked at the group, studying the people. “I should pay more attention to my surroundings.” The end of her nose wrinkled and she looked back at Flynn.
“Maybe that’s the hint to move off of the sidewalk. Were you heading somewhere?”
That thing she did with her nose was more effective than most smiles he had seen. “Uh, no, nowhere in particular,” Flynn answered, trying not to stare. But staring a little, anyway. “What about you? Wait, you were probably heading home to paint a masterpiece, and I’m keeping you here and draining your creative spirit.” He laughed.
The blush was back. She scolded herself for it, turning nearly as red as her hair, but then her Mama had always told her that it was bound to happen when she got of the right age. “Oh, good.” At least she wasn’t keeping him from something, or someone who may be waiting.
“Actually, I was, but I got a little distracted,” she admitted, making a face as her hand lifted and twirled as if to allude that she’d been drawn to this particular area by all of the goings-on. “It can wait a little bit, though.”
This particular piece was on the larger end and it had been haunting her for days, nights. She found herself perched on her stool with her hair still wrapped up for bed, paint on her pajamas and bare legs, at two in the morning trying to find inspiration to continue.
“Well, let’s see…” Flynn looked around, as if searching for an idea. Or inspiration of his own. “What about food? Are you a starving artist? I know a place that makes an amazing burger.” As he said it, he realized he was hungry, too. He hadn’t eaten since that morning. A giant bowl of cereal in the kitchen of his trailer. Reese’s Puffs.
“It’ll be my treat. I still feel bad about the whole…” His gaze swept over to the painted sidewalk. “Incident.” And then he gave her his best, most convincing smile.
Her fingers lifted. She wrapped a tendril of red hair around the digit in an absent manner, her eyes casting a quick glance around - was she paranoid about getting trampled by the crowd? Perhaps. Or maybe just being swept away in the undertow in a sea she couldn’t swim well in. But as Flynn spoke her attention went back, and her hand dropped to her side again.
“Now that you mention it, I’m starving. I didn’t realize it until just now,” she said, blinking a bit. Things like that got away from her. She could paint for hours and forget to eat, miss an important text or phone call.
Ellie snapped back into reality, smiled wide, and nodded. “That’s nice of you, sure. Thanks. Which way..?”
“Come on.” He grinned and ducked his head in the direction behind them. “There’s this place called Bar Code Burger Bar. You’ll love it, trust me.” Flynn led the way, making sure to watch out for any incoming people that she might bump into.
“So, Ellie the artist. Are you always this adorable?” he asked casually as they walked, giving her a sidelong glance.
Thankfully he knew where he was going. Ellie was not good with directions at all. Her sister, the middle, often joked about how Elladine would get lost in an open paper bag. It was always a topic at the family gatherings because of her prompting and Ellie never went without a flush in her cheeks because of it,
“That’s a lot of trust for a stranger,” she offered, though her tone was playful. She hurried along after Flynn, doing her best to keep up. My, he was tall!
“Adorable?” She blushed again, those blue eyes going wide. “Uh, I guess so? I mean, I don’t know, maybe?” Did that sound too pretentious? She could hear her mama’s voice now.
He ducked his head to stage-whisper to her. “The answer is yes. I’ll look the other way on that one, but you’d better get the next one right.” Flynn winked and laughed. They were almost to the restaurant now.
“Well, we need to fix it so that we’re no longer strangers. I’ll go first. I’m Flynn Russo, I’m from Henderson, I like burgers. Now you go.”
Ellie blinked. She made herself smile and nodded, “Oh sure, be ready next time. Okay.” And then a soft laugh would fall from her lips. This was certainly an adventure. Who knew that bumping into a random stranger and forfeiting art supplies would mean food and an impromptu pop quiz.
Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again. “Elladine Sawyer, from Texas, I like burgers too.” Another laugh, but this one was more genuine.
“Elladine,” Flynn repeated thoughtfully. “I like that. It’s unique. Is it okay if I call you Elladine?” They reached the burger bar, and he held the door open for her. Inside, people gathered around tables and a long bar. Flat screen televisions were mounted in various corners, some displaying a football game, others news and sports commentary.
He was right, it was a unique name. Where her mother had come up with it, Ellie wasn’t sure even though she’d asked on multiple occasions. It was a French name that meant sun ray, but that was knowledge gleaned from the internet on a night she’d gotten curious.
“Sure. Most people just call me Ellie, but you can call me whatever you want.” Was that too forward? A moment was taken to consider that and there wasn’t any use taking it back now, it had been blurted out like always.
“Thanks,” she said, smoothing a lock of hair away from her face as she entered the restaurant. Her stomach growled at the scent of burgers and fries. “Wow, this place is busy.”
Flynn laughed at the comment, the way her cheeks reddened slightly as she realized what she had said. “I’ll stick to Elladine...for now.” He led her over to a table where two menus sat in a metal holder. He put one down for her before grabbing the other, even though he already knew what he was going to get. His usual was two burger patties with fried onion rings, cheese, and barbeque sauce, a mountain of fries, and a beer.
He watched one of the TVs for a moment before turning his attention back to her. “So, Texas, huh? You’re a southern girl. That’s cool.”
Ellie followed Flynn. Literally trailing behind him. While she didn’t mind eating in public, she didn’t frequent places like this and so everything was competing for her attention. It was loud, brightly illuminated with the various channels of games of shows, and the cuisine was a mastery all on its own.
She murmured another thanks as she sat down, tucking her purse by her feet once settled. Plucking up the menu he had set down, she browsed. Those blue eyes trailed over the contents and she found herself struggling to decide because everything sounded delicious.
“Mmhm,” Ellie murmured.
Her eyes drifted up and she sat a bit straighter in her chair, smiling. “Place called Fate. Not a small town, but small enough to not be the big city.”
“So you’re saying I literally bumped into a beautiful girl with a beautiful name, and she’s from a place called Fate?” Flynn folded the menu back up and set it down with a soft smile. He knew he was being cheesy, but he didn’t care. It was fun, and he liked teasing her to watch that nose wrinkle and blush come over her face. A server came up to their table.
“You two need a minute?”
Flynn looked at Ellie. “I’m ready. What about you?”
“Uh, sure,” she stammered, then laughed and wrinkled her nose. Her order was given, opting for something tame in hopes of making it through a meal without getting sauce all over the place. And water to drink. Alcohol on top of what seemed to be a large meal just sounded...well, she was playing it safe, anyway.
“You say that to every girl you meet,” Ellie accused, though her tone seeped playfulness. “Don’t expect me to fall for your tricks so easily.”
She bit back a laugh that settled into her eyes instead.
“I don’t, actually,” he assured her, eyes bright as he watched her. “This is purely situational.” Flynn looked around at the bar. He would classify this place as ‘quiet’, even though to the average person, it was anything but. The conversation, music, everyone digging into ostentatious food, it helped create an atmosphere that apparitions didn’t prefer. Some could still slip in, though, attracted by his presence. Flynn seemed to be a magnet, of sorts. Everything was clear at that moment, however, and he was able to relax.
“If you think I’m trying to trick you, I can stop,” he offered. “If I’m making you uncomfortable.”
That assurance had her eyebrows lifting a bit. Was that a spark of hope? Disbelief? She wasn’t sure. Ellie didn’t have much luck with relationships or really keeping steady friendships for that matter. So the idea that this was a rare occurrence for him mirrored the same thing she felt.
Ellie shook her head, letting go of her lip. “No it’s — I’m fine, I just don’t do this very much, so I guess it’s also situational.” Not bumping into someone - she did that a lot - but agreeing to go somewhere after. Usually she just left after the apology and the retrieval of any lost items.
“So, we’ll take it step by step. Starting with eating. That’s simple, right?” Flynn gave her a reassuring smile as their drinks were dropped off, along with a paper-wrapped straw for her water. He pulled his beer toward him.
“What kind of stuff do you paint? I’m assuming you paint by the contents of that bag,” he amended, licking his bottom lip to catch a bit of foam. “Do you have any pictures?”
She found herself nodding. Step by step. Did this mean that it was technically some sort of date or something? She was totally overthinking this, and the color in her cheeks probably said more than she had to. “Yeah, simple enough.” Ellie smiled, grabbing up the straw. The tube wrapped in paper butted against the flat of the table and shed the wrapper.
But before the straw could even make it into the beverage, the cup of water went flying in Flynn’s direction. She watched it lean over in slow motion, spraying its contents of cold ice and cubes across the table and into his vicinity. “Oh my god, I am so sorry —“ and there was a flurry to find all of the napkins within reach.
Flynn watched as some of the water lapped over the side of the table, splashing against his t-shirt. He, too, grabbed some napkins and began wiping up the spill. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “Probably the universe’s way of saying I needed another shower today.” He grinned, scooting back in his chair and stemming the tide before it could reach his jeans. He waved at a passing server. “Can we get some more napkins, please?” The waiter nodded and pulled a stack out of his apron, handing it to Flynn.
“Be honest, now,” he asked her, “was this your way of avoiding showing me your artwork?”
Embarrassed. She was so embarrassed. Frantically she swept up the water with the napkins, finding them all instantly soaked through and useless. But she couldn’t help the amusement creeping in at his comment that struggled to outweigh the other feelings. It was hopeless, there was so much liquid there.
Thankfully one of the servers came and got the mess cleaned by providing more napkins.
“No! I have no idea how that happened,” she confessed. It was like the glass had just jumped off of the table or something. But that was probably just her mind laying tricks. She hadn’t been sleeping well lately.
“I don’t really show anyone my art,” Ellie explained. “But I paint all kinds of stuff. Scenery, people, abstract...just whatever I’m feeling.” She also carried a small sketchbook for quick ideas that came upon her or used her phone to catch a moment on camera for rediscovery later.
“It’s okay, honestly. Don’t worry about it.” Once the table was cleaned, their server came back with their food, setting each plate on the now-dry table along with another -- unusually -- large set of napkins. “It’s just water.” Flynn looked at the messy burger on his plate, visually assessing the best angle to tackle it with minimum spillage.
“I doodle sometimes,” he offered. “Mostly when I’m at work, and there’s a lull. I do a lot of overnights. I work at a truck stop. Lots of surly guys with beards come through. It’s a riot.”
The pile of napkins made her cheeks go red and she offered a whisper of a thanks to the server for that and also the food. Plus the refill had come quickly, too. She picked up a fry and chewed on it thoughtfully, studying Flynn.
“That sounds dangerous,” Ellie remarked. Working an overnight shift at a truck stop where anyone could come through. She supposed it could also have its lulls. “What do you doodle?”
Flynn pulled out his phone and showed her a picture. It was a crudely done caricature of one guy that came in on a weekly basis, with a beard that could rival ZZ Top’s, 80s wraparound sunglasses even at night, and an American flag vest. “I don’t know his actual name, but I call him Jim-Bob. He’s not even a trucker, so don’t think I’m stereotyping. He comes to bowl.”
“What do you think, Elladine?” He drawled out the last syllable of her name. “Museum-worthy?”
Leaning over a bit, she spied the doodle. “Wow,” she breathed, nodding, “that’s not half bad.” Even if it seemed mildly exaggerated as far as the actual lines. “Does he really have that beard?” The prickle of fascination was there, regardless of the beard or not. A bowling biker man. Interesting.
Then she laughed and made a face, wincing playfully, “I mean, maybe not museum but definitely coffee shop worthy.”
“Oh, you mean those terrible paintings they hang up and people charge like 300 dollars for them?” Flynn laughed, before a concerned expression came over his face. Shit. What if that was what her art was like? He backpedaled quickly. “And...by terrible, I mean amazing. I just have no taste. You know, not an artist.”
He picked up his burger, a definite two-hander, and took a bite. If his mouth was full, he couldn’t fit his foot into it.
She burst out a laugh, unable to hold it back. “Well,” Ellie began, rolling her eyes to the side as if to say he had hit the nail on the head, though he actually hadn’t. Her work didn’t go much of anywhere. Those blues would snap back to Flynn, “Everyone is an artist.”
Picking up her burger, she ate mostly in silence because of how good the thing was. A bit of sauce dribbled down her chin at one point thankfully not getting on her clothes, wiped away with a napkin.
And then when her hands and mouth were free of food. Ellie dove for her phone. She lifted it up and snapped Flynn’s picture before he could move, looking satisfied. “Oh yeah, that’s a good one. The light is so good…”
“Wait, what did you do?” He quickly set the burger down and wiped his mouth, eyes wide, unable to contain his laughter. “Let me see. That’s so not fair.” Oh, Flynn was going to get her back for that, when she least suspected it.
“Nope,” she giggled, shaking her head. “Not this time.” The phone dove out of sight and back into her purse, and she reached over to steal a french fry from his plate for good measure. “You have to trust that it was the best picture of you anyone has ever taken.”
“That’s a lot of trust to put into a stranger,” Flynn countered, using her line from earlier. He reached out and stole one of her fries, too. He grinned to let her know he wasn’t really upset. “Since you’ve got my picture in your phone now, do you want my number to go along with it? I mean, might as well, right?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“I trusted you when you suggested this place,” she countered back with amusement. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” Ellie grinned, sheepishly pulling out her phone. She ate another fry as she let herself into her phone, waiting for the number. “Okay, what’s your number?”
“867-5309.”
Flynn watched her with a straight face, waiting to see what her reaction to it would be, if she’d recognize the number. He kept working on his burger while he waited.
“Jenny,” she plugged in, her eyes staying on him. “I got your number. But I don’t wanna make you mine...yet.” And then she burst into laughter. Biting at her bottom lip, Ellie offered up the mobile device. “Here, be that way.”
“Ellie, Ellie, you’re the girl for me,” he sang, typing in his actual number. “You don’t know me, but you make me so happy.” Flynn handed her the phone back. He resisted the urge to peek at the photo she had snapped.
“You got a sidewalk heart and a song. How’s that for a first date?” He waited for her to blush.
Oh he wouldn’t be disappointed. Her cheeks were scarlet, she was blushing furiously and debating on whether or not to hide under the table. Taking the phone back she closed it, then forgot to text her own number back as was procedure. As she remembered she decided he could wait a little bit to get her number.
“It’s...wait, was this a date?” It had all of the makings of a date. As unexpected as it was, she found that she enjoyed it. “It was great.”
“Yeah?” He grinned, sitting back in his chair triumphantly. “Success.” Flynn hadn’t expected it, either, but it seemed like the best things could happen that way. Well, and the worst, too, but this definitely wasn’t that. He wiped his hands on one of the many extra napkins.
“I don’t know how I’m going to top it, though.” He paused, then snapped his fingers. “I know, for the second date, I’ll invite Jim-Bob along, and you can paint his portrait.”
“Really?” She inquired, excited, “do you think he’d let me braid his beard? It’d be for the portrait of course, and the sake of art.” Now she was interested in seeing if this Jim-Bob ZZ Top fella was any good at bowling. She would bet money he could roll a perfect 300.
“These burgers were pretty good,” Ellie nodded. She looked down at the sagging bun that had managed to loose part of itself over the fries. She was never going to finish all of that, but then that was what to-go was for, right? “I think I need a box.”
“If it was for the sake of art? Oh, in a heartbeat. Just promise me you won’t go falling in love with your bearded muse and leave me behind.” Flynn tried valiantly not to laugh, and failed. “The mental imagery. I can’t.”
He raised a hand, signaling their server. “Can we get two boxes, please and thank you?” He turned back to Ellie.
“Oh so you think I’m one of those girls,” she murmured, nodding. “I see. I see where this is going.” Ellie bit back a grin. “You think I’m a love them and leave them type of gal. Well, I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself, won’t you?”
Flynn leaned in, then, a knowing smile plastered over his features. “I look forward to it.” There was no way he was going to let Ellie out-maneuver him in the flirting department. He reached out and gently tucked a lock of her long red hair behind her ear, then ran his thumb over the turquoise freckle of paint.
“That color looks good on you.” He met her eye.
As soon as he touched her hair she found herself freezing in her seat. Those large eyes widened a bit, she stared like a fawn in the headlights, and her stomach twisted a bit with delight.
‘Don’t be stupid, Ellie. He’s too much everything for you, silly girl.’ She was scolding herself inwardly.
“Thanks,” she managed, trying not to be so awkward.
“Sorry, was that too much?” He brought his hand back, noticing the way she went completely still. “I was at an 11. I could bring it down to, oh, maybe a 7?” Flynn began boxing up his food. He’d probably be eating it at 2 or 3 in the morning. He always woke up around that time from some weird dream.
“No, no,” she said, lifting her hand up. Fingers danced across the skin where his hand had just been, touching absently across that tiny iota of teal paint. “It’s fine.”
Thankfully the box for her dinner came and she could use that to distract herself. Quickly she put the remainder of her plate into the box, closing the lid gently. And then her purse would be hauled up by the strap and she dug around for her wallet. “Here, let me pay for my part.”
“I told you it was my treat,” he said, grinning. His face kind of hurt from how much he had been smiling around her. “I don’t know much about art, but I know the supplies aren’t the cheapest, and I feel bad for walking into you. Pleeeaaase?” Flynn drew out the word as he raised his hips slightly to pull out his own wallet.
“Ugh,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Okay, okay. This once. But next time we split it, okay?” Maybe that was presumptuous but she said it before even thinking about it. She pulled her hands out of her bag though she brought a couple of things with her.
A small book with blank pages and a pen with a cap. Ellie flipped open to a page and began to sketch something. The motions were quick, sharp, but also delicate. Her face twitched once in a while as she drew, but she didn’t notice.
Few moments later would render a small illustration of a woman sitting, a cloth draped around her though it tumbled down a shoulder, and instead of eyes she had flowers in their place. The pen capped, thrown into the bag, she removed the paper gently from the book and slid it across the table. Then she smiled. “An original. Don't lose it.”
“Ellie, this is…” Flynn looked down at the sketch, then back up at her. “This is amazing.” He held it carefully away from the greasy food on the table, folding it into fourths and sliding it into his pocket. “Thank you.”
And after putting money down on the table, he stood, takeout box in one hand, free hand held out to her to assist her in getting up. “Do you need an Uber to get home?” he asked her.
Her purse would be slung up onto her shoulder and she clutched it while accepting his hand and standing up. She held on a moment, maybe too long, then she let go and went scarlet, scrambling to get the to-go container before she forgot about it. “Thanks.”
“Oh, no, I’ll be okay, I drove. I can get back. But I’ll let you walk me to my car like a proper gentleman.”
“I would be more than happy to,” Flynn assured her as they exited the restaurant. Again, he held the door open for her and they were back out on the busy city street. As they walked side by side, he felt content. That’s why he didn’t notice that the same spirit from earlier was back, trailing on the other side of Ellie. Flynn dutifully ignored him, even as the ghostly man removed his hat and a bloody wound became visible in his peripheral vision.
“I’m really glad I met you,” he told her, staring straight ahead. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”
She moved easily with Flynn. Through the door of the restaurant and also through the crowd as she led him in the direction of her car. Thankfully her keys were in her pocket or she would’ve been stuck digging for them for an age.
“Me too,” she smiled. It was a lot of fun, just like he said, but more because she never did that. Impromptu date? Her mother was going to have so many questions when she found out.
Ellie turned a corner and then stepped up to the Nissan Juke. It was space black, ebony with flecks of starlight in the paint. “This is me,” she murmured, the lights on the car illuminating when she pressed the fob.
“You’re a compact SUV?” Flynn joked, looking between her and the car. He then pointed across the street, where he had found a spot, the fire engine-red 2004 Dodge Challenger parallel parked between two new showroom-shiny sedans. “That’s mine. Convenient, no?” He leaned against a parking box.
“I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Elladine.”
Ellie turned to look at the car. Her lips twisted into a smirk. Of course it was a red sports car. “You’re a sports car?”
Turning back to him, her smile earned more warmth. “Yeah, I’ll see you around, Flynn.”