Page 45 of Fracture

Dylan deserves better than that.

CHAPTER 10

LEVI

“Fuck!”The wrench falls from Dylan’s hand for what feels like the fourteenth time since he started working on the red Harley, and he kicks the tool across the garage with a growl. “Fucking piece of fucking useless shit.” His shoulders are heaving, and he runs a hand over his head. “God fucking dammit.”

I lean on the seat of the bike I’m working on, and tilt my head as I look over at him. “You OK over there, pretty boy?”

He tears his shirt off and wipes his face with it, throwing it to the ground with a snarl. “I’m fine.”

“You seem on edge.”

“I said, I’m fine, Levi.” He’s louder this time, loud enough to be heard over the music playing, and a few of the other guys look over in our direction.

I wave them off with a reassuring smile, and round the bike to stand beside Dylan. “You’re not fine, so stop lying to me. Let’s go get a drink.”

“I don’t need a fucking drink.”

I put my hand on his shoulder, expecting a slap but he sighs instead. “You can lie to everyone but me, Kovac. Now come on, I’m parched, it's hot as balls in here.”

“Can you please stop trying to look after me?” He snaps.

“Nope.” I grin at him as he scowls at me. “Watching pretty boys torture themselves brings out my sweet side. Now get your ass up and let me buy my friend a drink. From our own personal bar, no less.”

He rolls his eyes and brushes the dirt from his hands. “I’m fine, that engine is just being difficult.”

“Yeah, it’s the engine, sure.” I chuckle over my shoulder at his dark look, and we head to the office at the back of the shop. I retrieve two beers from the fridge, clicking off the caps against the edge of the door before handing one to Dylan. “Cheers.”

Dylan barely raises his bottle before downing a long swig. He clenches his eyes shut and throws himself down in one of the leather chairs. “Fuck,” he mutters, before eyeing me apologetically. “Sorry for being an asshole, man. This isn’t exactly professional of me.”

“It’s fine, the guys can handle the shop for a minute.” I sit down opposite him, gulping down my cool beer, eyeing his tortured face. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but you know I’m here if you need me.”

He runs a hand across his chin, leaving behind a smudge of oil, and he sighs heavily. “I think I fucked things up with Stella.”

“How so?”

“I pushed her too hard, I tried to move too fast.” He laughs bitterly, shaking his head and raising the bottle to his lips. “She told me to take it easy, and I couldn’t fucking listen, could I?”

“What happened?” I don’t need to ask what happened, I know what happened. I heard it. I stood in my bedroom and listened to Stella moan and scream, furiously jacking myself off. I know what they did. But since then, they haven’t been in a room together.

Dylan rolls his shoulders, avoiding my eyes. “We got all… I don’t know, downtown, we played a game to taunt Jared Marshall, and then it turned into more than a game. We gothome, and she… I mean, I thought she wanted…Fuck.” He hisses out a breath and leans heavily on his knees. “I… I went down on her, and she seemed to enjoy it, she told me she loved me, and she seemed to want me. But then she… Came, and then she just… She rolled away from me, wouldn’t let me touch her, and told me to get out.” He raises his eyes to my face, and he looks so hard it feels like my heart cracks a little. “It’s like she regretted it, like she… She regretted doing that with me.”

“I don’t think she regrets it, she probably just needed a minute.” I shrug, trying to remain casual and reassuring and not think too much about Dylan’s face buried between Stella’s thighs, because jesus fucking christ he’s in pain and what the fuck is even wrong with me? “She just needed to get her head clear. Sex is probably a big deal to her, you know?”

Dylan’s eyes widen, and he raises his hands almost defensively. “I didn’t hurt her, I’d never do that.”

“No, no, I don’t mean it like that. I just mean… I don’t know, man. I think Stella’s struggling with a lot of things. Like we all are.”

Dylan’s eyes drop back to the floor, and his Adam’s apple races up and down his throat. “Yeah, we all seem to be pretty good at nursing our demons, huh?”

“I wouldn’t quite put it that way.” My train of thought is cut off as my phone rings, and my mother’s number appears on the screen. “Sorry man, give me a second.” I suppress a groan, and pick the phone up. “Hello, Mother.”

“Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” Her voice drips saccharine sweetness down the line. “How’s the shop going?”

“It’s going great, thanks for asking.”

“I’ll have to come down and see it some time.”

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