Before I could answer, my mother knocked on the window that separated us from her air-conditioned office.
Grateful for the distraction from my body’s shortcomings, I changed the subject. “Here, why don’t you go hang out in the waiting area and let me fix your tire and get you on your way. No charge.”
Ozzie narrowed his eyes in the direction of the office. “Thanks, man,” he said, letting go of my arm.
His hand had been an extra source of warmth on my already overheated skin, and my abs flexed as I was hit with the familiar feeling of wanting him to like me.
As I watched him walk over to our waiting room, I grumbled over how patently unfair it was for him to always be so put together. With a body like his, he could wear camo Crocs and a neon tracksuit and still be enviably hot. I’d never admit this to anyone, but I was a little jealous of the man’s ass. I faithfully got in an early-morning workout to make my physical therapist happy, but Ozzie clearly lived in the gym.
Maybe I needed to ask him about his exercise routine.
Knowing my mom was waiting impatiently for me to finish up, I headed for Ozzie’s gorgeous car. I drove it carefully into the bay, then jacked it up and took a look.
Thankfully, the nail was in a repairable area. I was getting a lot of business from the folks in his growing neighborhood, so I doubted it’d be the last time I saw him.
I grinned at the thought, then shook off my ridiculous bro crush and made the repair. By the time I met Ozzie back in the office, Mom had plied him with cookies and a Coke and was asking him questions about his family. She did a good job pretending she was interested in his answers, but I knew better.
Her eyes were on me the second I walked into the air-conditioned office, and her brows met in the middle like some angry mountain peak.
“Augustus Walker Junior!” she screeched dramatically. “Why are you running around shirtless, like a heathen? Pull your coveralls back up!”
She cut her eyes to Oz, then back to me, her meaning clear.
“Momma.”
She’d seen me like this earlier, but she waited to make a big deal of it now to embarrass me in front of Oz. Mortified, I yanked up the coveralls and snaked my arms into the stifling sleeves, though I left the zipper down so I didn’t pass out from the heat still radiating off my skin.
Rolling her eyes, she turned to Oz. “My apologies. I taught my son to have better manners than to prance about half naked.”
Ozzie put on his bartender smile, his eyes narrow. “Mrs. Walker, it’s fine. I was grateful y’all let me sneak in right at the end of the day.”
“Oh, hush. I’ve known you since you were a kid. I’m glad you came in.”
I gritted my teeth, remembering how she and my father had reacted when I showed them the clothes Oz had picked out for me last year. As a new teacher, I’d needed help in the wardrobe department, and he’d graciously assisted me in putting together a closet full of sharp outfits for school.
Mom had accused Ozzie of trying to groom me to “look like one of those homosexuals,” and Dad had said similarly disparaging things about my new, professional haircut. Today, though, she was being sugar-sweet, and I couldn’t stand the insincerity in her voice. Of course, Ozzie spent a lot of time talking to people at the bar he co-owned with Joel, a fellow Lost Boy. Bet he’d clocked the lie as easily as I had.
Hoping to hurry things along, I turned to my friend. “Hey, you’re all set. There’s been a lot of cars coming in from your subdivision, though, so make sure you’ve got a good spare.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, and I’ve got a full-size spare.”
“Excellent.”
When he went to reach for his wallet, I held up my hand. “I told you, man. No charge. Just keep it safe out there.”
Mom’s lips thinned, but I ignored her in favor of accepting a side hug from Oz.
“Sorry I’m so sweaty,” I whispered, self-conscious all over again.
Oz tilted his head, taking in the still-exposed sliver of skin from my collarbones to my belly button. “Are you kidding? You just made my night,” he said, and I could practically hear my mother grinding her back teeth to powder.
I was ninety percent sure he’d said it to get under her skin.
He sent her a broad smile, one social graces dictated she return. Turning back to me, he tugged on my collar. “See you this weekend?”
I dipped my head, feeling the flush returning to my cheeks. “Yep.”
“Good. Saturday lunch isn’t the same without you. And, now that Leo’s almost of age, we’re gonna be discussing how he can take down that ranch hottie he’s had his eye on.”
