At first, Sara thought she was seeing things. But the vision remained the same. Instead of Kurt standing on her doorstep, it was the boy with the beautiful name.

He looked just as surprised by her as she was by him.

"You...you look nice," Bentley whispered.

Sara crossed her arms over her chest. "Thank you." She sighed. "I'm not going to find Kurt locked away in the trunk now, am I?" she quipped.

Bentley stared at her. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to refocus his attention. He didn't even crack a smile. "Uh, no. Kurt had car trouble." He cleared his throat strangely and held his arm out to her.

Sara narrowed her eyes. "Car trouble? Seriously? Kurt cares more about his car than he cares about himself." She glared at him as she took his arm. "What did you do?"

Bentley bit his bottom lip, smiling. "I may have tweaked his Porsche a bit."

Sara frowned. "Nothing permanent, right?"

Bentley's grin widened. "I happen to be well-versed in dealing with complicated machinery. I doubt Kurt is." He clenched his jaw, thinking. "If Kurt behaves himself, I might rectify the problem."

Sara shook her head. "You're unbelievable." Her eyes dropped down to take in Bentley's outfit.

He sported a tux. But it wasn't the typical black and white tuxedo most guys wore. Bentley's tuxedo was jet black. Its exotic material seemed to glimmer in the faint light around them.

His hair was slicked back, making the angles of his face more prominent. He was more handsome than ever.

Instead of his usual boat shoes, he wore soft black leather shoes. Sara squinted her eyes. It looked as if the buckles on his shoes were made of gold and diamonds!

Bentley's expression had grown blank as he walked her to his car.

When Sara saw the car, she became extremely nervous. It looked just as intimidating and fierce as its driver. The car was all black and shiny. Its nose was curved down and its white headlights were two narrow slits along the front.

Sara recalled Bentley telling her about this car. She was pretty sure it was the one with diamonds in the headlights.

The sports car honked its horn as they approached.

"Wolf, you flirt," Bentley told it.

The car blinked its headlights on and off as if in answer.

"The car's name is Wolf?" Sara asked him.

Bentley nodded.

When they reached the car, it automatically swung open the passenger door.

Sara screamed in surprise. She accidentally squeezed Bentley's hand as she leaped backwards. Blushing, she turned to him. "Sorry. I forgot that these sports cars have scissor doors."

Bentley merely nodded his head again, not meeting her gaze. His grip on her hand loosened slightly as he helped her climb into the cold car. When she was settled, the door shut automatically.

Sara watched Bentley walk briskly to the driver's side. As the door popped open for him, he dropped down casually into the seat. He seemed completely at ease. Of course, this was only one of his many sports cars.

Sara envied his sophistication and smooth confidence. She kept her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Looking shyly around, she realized she'd never ridden in such a fancy car.

"Passenger is cold," the car's robotic voice declared.

Bentley's eyes widened in alarm. "Please adjust setting," he told it.

A temperature scale appeared across the digital screen on the car's dashboard.

Sara watched as a red bar rose to show the increasing temperature. She felt her body relax as the car warmed. She was so nervous, she hadn't even realized how cold she was.

"Adjustment complete," the car said.

Bentley pushed a button. The car's engine roared to life.

Rock music exploded from hidden speakers. Its sound pulsated around them.

Sara swallowed loudly. She peeked at Bentley out of the corner of her eye. His expression remained stony.

"Roundabout," he said to the car.

Instead of backing up out of her driveway, the car seemed to rise up slightly off the ground.

Sara gasped. She clutched the back of her chair, afraid to move.

Bentley smirked, sensing her fear.

The car spun itself in a one-eighty degree turn, then dropped back down. Its curved, sleek nose now faced the street.

Bentley bit his bottom lip again, smiling to himself. He slammed his foot down on the gas. The car sprang forward.

Sara felt her body flatten against the back of the seat.

Here we go, she thought, watching her neighborhood disappear past the window in a matter of seconds.