Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
I still can’t get over the way he looked when he bolted out of here. I don’t know what is wrong with him, and maybe it’s my own feelings that are clouding my judgment, but I can’t help but wonder what he was thinking. I could have sworn he was about to kiss me at the kitchen sink, and I freaked out. I squirted him with the water, hoping to lighten the mood, but in all reality, all night I’ve wondered what would have happened if I’d let him kiss me. And I don’t mean like I wonder what it would feel like or what would happen next. I beat that to death in high school when I thought for sure I was so in love with him and he was completely clueless. I upped and went away to school, choosing one that was far away, hoping if I put distance between us then I would get over my feelings for him. Hell, I even dated and got engaged, all along knowing I shouldn’t because my heart was someplace else.
Maybe that’s why I wasn’t so hard on Keith. He told me he felt like there was something missing when we were together. Maybe it was just an excuse, to lighten the guilt he felt, but in my heart I knew. I’ve always put Austin in the back of my mind, knowing nothing could ever come of it. But it never truly stopped my heart from hoping.
But even entertaining the thought is ludicrous. No, all I’ve thought about is if he kissed me, I would never want to let him go. There’s no way I could become another notch on his belt, and if anyone knows, I do, Austin doesn’t do relationships. As a matter of fact, he runs from them. I’m pretty sure it’s because his mom left him and his dad when Austin was only little, and he’s never really dealt with it. But of course, I took Psychology 101 and ever since then I’ve tried to analyze everyone, thinking I’ve got it all figured out.
I lay out a pair of jeans and a black v-neck T-shirt for tomorrow. There’s no sense in dressing up, knowing that I’ll probably come home with grease on me every day. I lie down on the bed and pull the blankets up and stare at the ceiling.
Maybe this is a bad idea. When I considered coming home, I honestly thought I could handle it. But after seeing him with Blair and spending time with him today, all my old feelings have resurfaced. Am I strong enough to do this? And now I’ve added working with him to the mix. I’m either crazy or a glutton for punishment.
You only have to work there until Cindy gets back from maternity leave, I tell myself. Surely I can handle a few weeks. But even as I consider it, my mind goes to the image of Austin’s shirtless chest and how looking at him made me feel. I’m screwed. I groan and clench my eyes tight, trying to get that thought out of my head.
8
Austin
I’ve always liked getting my hands dirty, working with engines and cars, but I can’t remember the last time I was so looking forward to getting into work.
I tell myself that it’s because I missed my best friend, that’s what’s got me charged up and early to the shop. Okay, fine, there’s a definite spark there, but it’s probably just because Laney is a beautiful woman as well as an amazing person. I’d have to be dead not to feel some attraction to her. It isn’t a deal-breaking problem because all I have to do is keep my attraction in check. Time will help it fade, and pretty soon we’ll be comfortable and easygoing around each other once more.
The shop is close enough to walk, but I decide to drive one of the motorcycles I fixed up to show Laney. I’ve mentioned the bike to her a few times, and it is likely she’ll be pleased more with the bike than the sleeper car I’ve been soupin’ up all year. The sleeper car looks like a sedan but has the guts of something very powerful inside. It sort of reminds me of an unmarked police car. But the bike is a classic, and I know she’s going to love it.
I park my bike in front of the garage so I can unlock the doors. As I’m opening the locks on the garage doors, I hear an engine lulling in the street and look over my shoulder toward the road.
Blair is sitting behind the wheel of her red Miata convertible looking like she’s still pouting about how things ended up between us when I broke it off with her yesterday. I really don’t want the drama she brings with her everywhere she goes, so I proceed to finish unlocking the shop.