Page 83 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

I glance at it idly, smoothing it out without thinking.

Then I see the logo stitched across the chest.

Last Mile Garage.

I pause.

Huh?

“You’re a fan?” I ask lightly, holding up the hoodie. “Or is this some kind of biker streetwear I’m not cool enough to recognize?”

He looks over briefly, then back to the road. “That’s mine.”

“Oh.”

I turn the hoodie over, thumb tracing the embroidery. “Do you… go there a lot?”

There’s a slight beat before he answers. “Most days. They kinda expect me to be there, you know?”

My brain clicks over. “You work there.”

He glances at me, and there’s the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Yeah.”

“At Last Mile.”

“Yeah.”

Iciness drowns me. “With Wayne.”

Another nod.

And suddenly a whole collection of tiny details rearranges itself in my memory. The welding mask in the back of the garage. That was… him?

“Oh my goodness,” I breathe.

“What?” he asks, like he genuinely doesn’t see the problem.

“You work with my boss.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t think that was important information to share with me?”

“I figured you knew.”

“I absolutely did not know.”

He laughs under his breath, not mocking, just genuinely surprised. “You’ve been to the shop.”

“You were wearing a welding mask!” I protest. “You could’ve been literally anyone.”

“That’s fair,” he admits.

I drop the hoodie back onto the seat between us and lean my head against the window, letting the cool glass calm me.

“So Wayne knows you’re taking me out.”

“Yeah.”