Page 25 of Virgin Skin

Guilt rises in my throat like bile, and I swallow it down.

MILO

Panic and guilt are written all over Piston’s face. I should probably feel the same, but all I can muster is mild annoyance that my dad showed up when he did. Okay,thatdoes create a bit of guilt though. I moved here to build a relationship with him, not seduce Piston. I can totally multitask though. And even if I can’t, how is any mortal supposed to resist this man when he has stayed up late the past three nights with me, binge-watchingCobra Kaifrom the first season? Also, he lets me hold his axolotl and he always smells so damn good. I’m only human.

“The Somalian blend is in the pot. It’s actually really good.” I pipe up to give Piston a break from rambling nervously and potentially giving us away.

Hero nods and then opens the cabinet next to all the coffee flavors to grab a mug.

“Fine, as long as it has plenty of caffeine, I’m sure I can stomach it.” He pours himself a mug then sits down at the table.

Piston hovers for a minute before he practically dives back under the sink to finish what he’s doing while I pull out another chair and take a seat with my dad.

“I didn’t know you were coming by this morning.” I pull my own mug back across the table towards me and take a sip.

“It was a bit of an impulsive decision. I figured it would be nice to drive you in for your first day of work. I didn’t want Piston to feel obligated,” he explains. “Speaking of which, I talked to Jag yesterday and he’s got a car at his scrap yard that looks like hell but still runs fine. If you want it, I can drive you over tonight to get the keys.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. How much does he want for it?” I attempt a quick mental calculation of how much is left in my bank account. I should probably actually check it, because there have been a lot of little expenses over the past week. I haven’t gotten an overdraft alert yet. I don’t think I have, anyway.

I pull out my phone and open my texts to make sure. I have hundreds of message alerts, most of them spam, a couple from my mom that I should probably respond to… but nope, no overdraft alerts.

“Milo?” Hero’s voice pulls my attention back.

“Hm? Oh, sorry, distracted for a second. How much does he want for the car?”

“I already took care of it.”

“You didn’t have to do that. How much was it? I’ll pay you back.” I pull up my banking app so I can check my balance. It’s definitely dwindling, but maybe I can at least work out a payment plan with him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hero says.

I frown. “I appreciate it, but I didn’t come here looking for charity.”

I think I said something similar when we went out to lunch and he offered to get me a job at Ink Slingers, but it’s worth repeating. I don’t want him to think I’m looking for him to make up for years of missed child support payments or anything. I may not be rolling in cash, but I’ve always managed to get by just fine.

“I know you didn’t. I want to help. Please let me do this?”

I chew on my bottom lip and consider how hard to fight him on this. Piston finally slides back out from under the sink, sitting up and wiping his hands on his jeans.

“He got his club name for a reason, Mi. He loves being the hero. Do him a favor and let him have a few easy wins.”

I sigh. “Yeah, okay.”

Hero smiles widely. “Thanks. Like I said, don’t get your hopes up for anything fancy, but it’ll at least be four wheels of your own.”

“Trust me, I live in the world of ‘nothing fancy,’” I assure him with a laugh.

“I knew we’d get along fine.” He lifts his coffee mug and taps it against mine, then he glances at the clock. “We should probably get moving if we’re going to get to the shop on time. I have an appointment first thing.”

He tilts his mug to his lips and gulps down the steaming liquid, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth and bushy beard when he’s finished.

“Do I have a minute to get changed?” I look down at the sweatpants and t-shirt I’m still wearing. I don’t want to hold him up, but it’s not exactly what I was planning to wear to my first day at a new job either.

“Yeah, go ahead.” He jerks his head for me to get moving. I hop up and start to hurry out of the kitchen. “Hey, kid, it’s cold as a witch’s tit outside, so grab a coat too.”

“Shit,” I mutter, stopping in the doorway. “I keep meaning to buy one.”

It’s not like it wasn’t cold in Colorado, but I didn’t spend as much time riding around on the back of motorcycles in November there.

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