I switch off the engine in my piece of crap car I saved from the scrap heap a year or so ago. It’s not the best but it gets me from A to B and does everything I need it to, except for the lack of air-conditioning, which in the summer months is unbearable.
I head into the garage where some god-awful rock music blaring out of the speaker in the corner. There’s a guy to the left of me underneath a car on a ramp and another guy sat just ahead of me, his head buried in what looks like a manual.
“Can I help you?” the guy underneath the car shouts over. He’s wearing a thin loose vest top which shows off the rippling muscles beneath. His long blonde hair is pulled back into a knot at the back of his head. He’s hot, but I can’t stop myself from comparing him to someone else. Someone who’s been on my mind for a while now.
“Um... Hi, I’m looking for Logan,” I shout back, hoping he can hear me over the punishing noise that blasts from the speaker.
“Yeah, he’s in the back,” he says. “Lo! You got a visitor.” My stomach flutters at the thought of seeing him again.
“Who is it?” Logan’s voice has me inhaling sharply. His voice is the most beautiful sound I think I’ve ever heard. It’s a smooth, velvety voice that washes over me, putting me instantly at ease.
“Some blonde chick! She’s hot.” He smiles mischievously at me before turning back to work.
A second later, Logan appears, and his eyes instantly settle on mine. His footsteps falter and his eyes go wide as he looks me over, breaking me out in chills. He’s clearly surprised to see me.
Is it weird to admit that I missed him?
My heart skips a beat as I take him in. He still looks as gorgeous as ever. A head of thick dark hair that curls over his forehead, beautiful deep green eyes and light stubble peppered across his cheeks and jaw which makes him even more sexy. His t-shirt strains over the thick muscle of his biceps and torso, tapering into a narrow waist. He’s built like a God, but I guess years of physical labour will do that to you, though I’m not complaining. He’s perfect in every way.
“Hey, Logan.” I smile, fiddling awkwardly with the sleeve of my jacket, not really knowing what to do with myself as I await his reaction.
His face softens before he starts forward. He doesn’t say anything as he gathers me into his arms, holding me tightly, burying his face in my neck as he lifts me off the floor.
I melt into his touch, wrapping my arms around his waist and clinging onto him like my life depends on it. It doesn’t feel weird to be hugging him. It feels good. It feels natural. Something inside me shifts, a heaviness in my chest lightens somewhat as he holds me. He puts me at ease, taking some of the pain away.
He releases me, placing my feet back firmly on the ground, but rests his hand on my cheek, his eyes searching my face. “How are you?”
I breathe out a sigh. “I’m getting there.”
He nods slowly. Reaching down to take my hand in his. “Come on in the back where it’s quieter. You want a drink?”
“I’m good, thanks,” I reply, as I follow him through into a tiny office. It’s messy. Pieces of paper litter every flat surface, empty soda cans and takeout boxes scatter the floor and his desk. “Wow, I’d hate to see what your house looks like,” I joke.
“The only place in my house you need to worry about is the bedroom and I assure you, it looks nothing like this.” He smirks.
Yep. I definitely missed him. My cheeks heat and I turn my head, hoping he can’t see the blush spreading across my face.
It never fails to amaze me how he can turn the slightest thing into something sexual, and he never fails to make me blush in the process. I still can’t wrap my head around how he affects me so much, whether it’s his one liners or his sexy as fuck smile, within a second flat I’m as red as a tomato.
And I hate it.
I hate the way I blush so easily. It’s ridiculous. It’s all fun when it comes to Logan, so it’s not like he means anything by it, it’s just who he is, so why do I react to him the way I do? He’s the ridiculously gorgeous, happy-go-lucky playboy with an answer for everything, but there’s this tiny part of me that wishes his innocent flirting towards me wasn’t so innocent, that it could actually be more.
“It’s really good to see you, Ames,” he says with a smile, leaning back to rest against the edge of the desk.
“Yeah, you too.” I smile, letting my gaze travel over him, watching his biceps flex as his grip on the desk tightens.
He clears his throat, his face wearing a hint of a smirk telling me he caught me checking him out. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Sorry, I know my being here is unexpected. I was just wondering if you could help me?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Well, my dad liked to fix up cars and the one he was working on never got finished.”
“What car is it?”
“A '65 GTO.”
