I march across the shop like a man on a mission to stop a building from collapsing, except the only thing collapsing is my sanity. Monday is my day off, so this is my first time back sincethe weekend. And apparently the universe spent those twenty-four hours rearranging reality just to screw with me.
I find Mason near the back, going over a parts order with Tank. He looks up the second I approach, eyebrows raised like he can smell the attitude rolling off me.
“Blade,” he says, voice even as ever. “Morning.”
“We need to talk,” I snap, jerking my head toward the office.
Tank whistles low. “Somebody woke up spicy.”
I ignore him and focus on the man in charge. “Why is Bri behind the desk in there?”
Mason wipes his hands on a rag like he has all the time in the damn world. “Because I hired her.”
I just stare at him. “You what?”
“She started yesterday,” he says simply. “She’s the new office manager. Books, payroll, inventory, ordering, phones. All the crap we suck at.”
I feel my jaw clench. “Since when?”
“Since Sunday,” Mason replies. “I offered her the job. She accepted. She’s already cleaning up Rev’s mess from last quarter.”
Tank pipes up, cheerful as always. “And we like her better than you already.”
I shoot him a look that promises pain. He grins wider, then I turn back to Mason. “She can’t work here.”
“Why not?” Mason asks, eyes locking onto mine like he already knows I don’t have a good answer.
Because she’s distracting. Because she’s sunshine wrapped in sass. Because every time she smiles at someone who isn’t me, my chest gets tight and my brain gets stupid. Because wanting her is the dumbest thing I could ever do.
I have nothing I can actually say. So I growl out the first terrible excuse that comes to mind. “She’s Bella’s sister.”
Tank snorts loud enough to be heard in the next county. Mason’s eyebrows lift just slightly. “I’m aware. And that is not a valid reason.”
“It feels like one,” I mutter, sounding like an absolute idiot and hating myself for it.
Mason steps in closer, voice low and final. “She’s smart. We trust her. She wants to be here and she’s damn good at what she does. That’s all that matters.” I grit my teeth but stay quiet because arguing with Mason is a losing game. “And Blade,” he adds, looking me dead in the eyes. “Whatever your issue is, figure it out. Fast. Because she’s staying.”
I swallow down every emotion I refuse to name. “Fine.”
“And stop slamming doors,” Mason finishes. “Next time I'll make you fix the hinges yourself.”
I grunt something that might pass for agreement and turn away, stalking back toward the office with my hands balled into fists. I can feel Bri watching me through the window. I look up just in time to catch her leaning back in the chair, smirking like she absolutely loves that I’m losing my mind.
She gives me a tiny wave. I swear under my breath. Tuesday just started, and I am already in trouble.
By the time lunch rolls around, I’m already one bad minute away from chewing through my own toothpick. All morning I kept my head down and did my damned best to ignore the chaos disguised as a woman sitting in our office. Every time I walked past, Bri was there. In that fitted Reapers Customs shirt. In those jeans. Glasses sliding down her nose while she muttered numbers and typed fast enough to set the keyboard on fire.
I should get a medal. Or therapy.
I grab a sandwich from the diner across the street and eat it in the break room like a feral animal hiding from its problems. I think I have regained some control by the time I get back to the shop floor.
That lasts exactly six seconds.
The front door swings open and three guys stride in with the kind of swagger only people who have never been punched carry around. Early twenties. Fresh faces. Hair gelled like they’re headed to a nightclub instead of a bike shop. They spot Bri immediately and make a beeline.
Of course they do. Why wouldn’t they?
Bri gives them her professional smile, but I see the way her fingers tighten around her pen. The way she inches back a little from the counter. The way she tries not to roll her eyes when one of them leans too far over the desk, invading her space like he paid rent on the air she’s breathing.
