“Pried? You should have been able to twist the screw off. Hence thescrewdriver.”
“I didn’t see a screw. I saw a shiny, silver connector like you described, and I shoved the screwdriver in and pried it off. I don’t remember you saying anything about any liquid, so I was surprised when it started dripping, and now my van won’t start.” Boisterous laughter bursts through the speaker, and my stomach sinks. “Why are you laughing? You said it would still be driveable.”
“Y-you’re fucked, man. I said tounscrewthe silver connector with theplus-shaped screw.Sounds like you broke your fuel line. Knowing you, you pried it too hard, and it’ll need to bereplaced. I’m guessing you tried to start it fifteen times, so your solenoid might be burned, too. Call the shop. Get a tow. I’d offer to come pick you up, but I’m slammed today, so you’ll need to call Ruby.”
But I can’t call my sister and ask her to come get me because she’s running the café alone again. With the tourists and guests in Cupid’s Cove for Valentine’s Day, we’re swamped. I shouldn’t even be down here, but I justhadto come see Mikey.
Fuck my life.
“I’ll figure something out. Thanks for nothing.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who broke it. Make sure you can get back here before tomorrow, or the town will riot, and Loralee will fine you for something stupid like failure to do your town duty.”
“I know. I’ll keep you posted. Check on Ruby if you have time, please.”
“Uh, sure. Okay. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I hang up and seriously consider pounding my head into the steering wheel. I can’t believe how severely I’ve fumbled this.
The van, the girl, my role as Cupid.
At least I still get to see her.
Though, with the luck I’m having, it would track if she isn’t at the shop.
I dial the shop. “Merv’s, how can I help you?” Her soft voice immediately calms my frayed nerves, and a rush of relief washes over me.
“Hey, Mikey, it’s Saint. Valentine.”
“Oh.” A brief pause. “Hi, Saint. How can I help you?”
“My van broke down on Elmer and 17th, and I need a tow to the shop, if it’s possible.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Yes, Rob can be there in ten minutes if that works.”
Who the fuck is Rob?
“Sounds good. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem. I—wewill see you soon.”
“Looking forward to it.”
She hangs up, and I already miss the sound of her voice. I know she’s probably trying to be efficient with her time, but part of me wishes she stayed on the phone. Has she thought about me at all since November?
God, I hope so.
Ten minutes later, the same truck Patrick arrived in a year ago pulls up in front of my van. Though, instead of his black hair and gangly limbs, a man my age with a neatly trimmed mustache and brunette mullet hops out.
“You Saint?”
“Yeah. You’re Rob?”
He flashes me a smile. “That’s me. My girl said your van’s broken down, but she didn’t say what was wrong.”
Irritation and jealousy burn a hot streak down my esophagus followed quickly by dread. Is Mikeydatingthis guy? Did she not feel our connection at all?
“Yep. Won’t start. Not sure why,” I lie.
