Heat floods my cheeks and I step away, turning my face from him and moving in the direction of my chair.
“Why do you do that?” he asks behind me.
I glance over my shoulder. “Do what?”
“Hide from me when you blush.”
“I don’t-”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do. Do I make you uncomfortable?”
“I... I don’t know. Not really.” I shrug.
He steps towards me, his brows knitting with worry as he peers down at me with a hardened gaze. “I never want you to feel uncomfortable around me.Ever. We’re friends aren’t we?”
Friends... Is that all we are? Can he not feel this magnetism between us, pulling us together? I’m starting to think it’s all in my head, like I’ve made up this whole fantasy like one of my stories.
“Yeah, we are,” I finally say.
“Good, because we have a long way to go before the car is even close to being finished, and I’d hate to think I make you feel that way. I may flirt a lot, but it’s who I’ve always been.”
“Yeah, you’re a real charmer alright.” I fight back a smile.
He raises an eyebrow. “Am I? Does that mean Icharmyou?”
There I go again... blushing.
Damn cheeks.
I shrug again. “Maybe.”
He presses a thumb to my warm cheek, stroking it over my skin tentatively. “I love it when you blush.”
Without realising it, I lean into his touch, loving the feel of his skin on mine, not caring about the fact his hands are covered in grease and oil. I stay like that for a few second before moving away, his hand falling back to his side, limply, as if he didn’t want me to pull away.
“I better get going, I’ve gotta drop into the shop on my way home, then pick up a few parts for the GTO before heading home.”
I feel my shoulders drop in disappointment. “Okay,” I say with a smile.
The two of us lock up the garage and head back through the house as I walk him to his truck, a huge midnight blue 4x4 which suits him down to a T.
As he opens the door, he turns back to me. “You should start thinking about the colour you want the car painted so I can get it sorted at the shop.”
“Yeah sure, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He winks before climbing into his truck. As I watch him drive away, the heaviness that weighs me down once I’m alone returns. It seems it only lifts when Logan’s around.
Chapter 9
Logan
I’ve been questioning why I didn’t take her up on her offer to pay me for my time for the past couple of days. It could have released a ton of worry weighing down on me. I could have used it to help me out of the fucked up situation I’ve gotten myself into. But I couldn’t. I have morals. Amy’s a friend and I won’t take advantage of that. I offered to help her as a favour, because after everything she’s gone through lately, I thought I could help, and because after not seeing her for months since her dad died, I wanted to use the opportunity to spend time with her.
It’s also beeninsanelyhot out, a heatwave they say, one that’s worked its way up from the south, one that they say will have temperatures souring and setting new temperature records. At least being under the shade of the garage it keeps the blazing sun off me, but the humidity is the killer. Sweat clings to me. The slightest movement has beads of moisture trickling down my body, soaking through my shirt.
But the heat isn’t my biggest problem.
The biggest problem I’m facing is having to watch as Amy walks around in Daisy Duke shorts, showing off miles and miles of long creamy legs, and a skin-tight tank top that clings to her like a second skin. Thank fuck she’s wearing a bra, because if I even caught so much as a glimpse of those hard nipples peeking through her shirt, I’m sure as hell that I’d lose my shit completely. I’m already jerking off more times than when I was a teenager and sporting the worst case of blue-balls ever, because my fist simply doesn’t do it for me anymore. It’s not enough.
