Page 10 of Defining Us

Delight stampeded throughout every inch of her. Not only was it adorable that he’d followed her lead, but it hit her like a ton of bricks that they were flirting.

Flirting!

Goddamn, but it was fun to flirt. Back in the day, it had been her favorite pastime. Her city friends used to joke that she’d flirt with anything with a pulse. All innocent fun, although the frivolity had turned fraught soon after her wedding.

But in the here and now, the dopamine rush was irresistible—her blood pumped, and stress whittled away, and conquering the world seemed feasible. She smiled so broadly that her cheeks hurt, no different from a smitten schoolgirl in homeroom.

His jaw sagged in response, but he hastily snapped it shut. The intensity permeating from his whiskey-colored eyes became so overwhelming that Mallory’s gaze eventually lowered to the floor, as it often did while in his presence.

A weighted silence stewed until, finally, she gestured to the door. “Um, I don’t want to keep you…”

“You’re not keeping me from anything.”

Nevertheless, a stalemate was incoming. She shifted on her feet, keys jangling in her hands, and snuck a peek up at him. His brows knit together as he looked into the distance, collecting his thoughts.

“That’s not true, actually. I haven’t always liked cars,” he admitted wistfully. “I became a mechanic because I wanted to master them.”

“What do you mean?”

“My parents were killed in a car accident when I was a kid. I thought if I learned everything about cars, I’d make sure nothing like that ever happened again.” A tiny chuckle escaped him as he crossed his sculpted arms across his chest. “The dreams of a child, clearly. But when I got older, I realized I was good at it and could make a career of it. So here I am.”

“I’m so sorry about your parents. I had no idea.”

A somber smile flickered over his face. “Why would you?”

Indeed, why would she know such a thing? It wasn’t like they were friends. They were barely even acquaintances. Regardless, she focused on the photos on the corkboard, keen to learn everything about him. A faded polaroid of an attractive couple and a boy with unruly ink-black hair caught her attention. Theboy smiled so fiercely that his eyes were closed, and his two front teeth were missing.

“Is that them?” she asked.

Joel grinned, happy memories shining on his face. “Yeah. That was my seventh birthday. Batman themed, naturally.”

“Naturally,” she agreed, returning his soft smile with her own.

“The crash was about a month after,” he recounted, rising all the way to his feet. “Then I came here to live with my aunt and uncle and cousin Tony.”

He’d arrived in Honeysuckle after experiencing a trauma, same as her. Granted, they were wildly different circumstances, but it was still meaningful to Mallory—just as they shared divorced status, this small town had been a form of salvation for them both.

“Didn’t mean to turn this into a therapy session.” He shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, no! Don’t apologize. I don’t mind at all. I love hearing this sort of thing.”

Her face burned like a furnace once the words left her mouth. Good God, what was the matter with her? She attempted to recover, sputtering out incoherent placations.

“Not—I mean—oh my God. I don’t mean that Ilovehearing that your parents are dead. That’s not what I mean at all. I would never say something like that. I know I sort of said it, but I didn’tmeanit. I just—I was trying to say that?—”

His steady voice broke through her unhinged apology. “Mallory. Take a deep breath, okay?”

Her hands were clammy, sweat trickled from her brow, and her chest was a stone’s throw away from collapsing. She was no stranger to panic attacks, but it had been a while since she’d last experienced one. The response was visceral enough to feel like the first time—when she had attended her ex-husband’scompany’s holiday party soon after their wedding, had a tad too much to drink, and acted a bit too cheeky for his liking.

The ride home in the taxicab was the first time in her life she’d been referred to as afucking worthless bitch. But it hadn’t been the last time, and it wasn’t the only cruel insult she’d heard that evening. And later that night, she’d locked herself in the bathroom and endured the panic attack alone, certain her heart would explode.

“I know that’s not what you meant,” Joel said, bringing her back to the present. He took one hesitant step forward like she was a skittish animal. “It’s okay. Just keep taking deep breaths.”

She obeyed, closing her eyes as she shakily pulled air into her lungs. Unfounded thoughts delivered in her ex-husband’s voice swirled through her.

There’ll be no facing Joel again after this.

He’ll tell everyone how damaged you are.

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