Page 20 of Ice Mechanic

May cause kneecaps to suddenly burst into Jello.

First impressions aside, Chance has a way of disarming me and I don’t like it.

When he hops out of the car, a flyer from the overstuffed glove compartment sails out and lands at his feet.

“What’s this?” He arches a brow. “The Pink Garage? Is that your place?”

I hesitate before nodding.

“Competing with the Kinseys?” He tips the paper to his head in a salute. “You’ve got my vote.”

“I’ll need more than a vote to keep the lights on, but that’s appreciated.” I stare straight ahead.

He chuckles and shuts the door. “Hey, maybe next week, I can take you out for a proper dinner as a thank you and we can discuss how to take down the Kinseys together.”

Oh-ho, no.

No way.

Time to nip this sucker in the bud.

“No need for a thank you.”

“At the very least, I can leave you tickets to our first game. Max said they’re selling fast.”

“I’m not much of a sports fan.” I pause and then tack on stiffly. “I doubt we’ll be seeing much of each other.”

“Oh.” He blinks, taken aback by the distance in my tone. He recovers quickly, his smile only a tad unsure. “But it’s a small town, right? I’m sure we’ll run into each other now and then.”

“Probably not. You’ll be busy competing and I’ll be busy working.”

The smile finally disappears and a part of me wishes I could say something to reverse the movement.Sure, let’s be friends. Let’s exchange numbers and get coffee and I can geek about cars while you geek about hockey.

Pffft. After Evan, I don’t want any male companionship, friendly or otherwise. Someone like Chance can probably be just-friends with someone like me, but I know for a fact that I can’t handle too much of him. He’s one hundred percent handsome, one hundred percent charming and I am one hundred percent delusional.

It wouldn’t take long for me to catch feelings. And then, not only would I be opening myself up to getting hurt again, but it’d be with an athlete who has—not only the people in town to cheat on me with—but a bunch of away games, fancy photoshoots with models, and international business meetings that provide plenty of enticing, non-monogamous entertainment.

Am I overthinking?

Maybe.

Probably.

I said I was delusional.

But it’s this very delusion that made me believe I’d be marrying Evan this year instead of finding his tongue searching for treasure in the caverns of my hairdresser’s throat.

The reminder of my ex-boyfriend’s duplicity gives me strength.

“Can you close my door please,” I snap, noticing the way he’s lingering.

“Oh, right.” Chance sheepishly shoves the door closed.

Without a word, I slam on the gas pedal and speed away

As I’m telling myself that I made the right choice, my phone rings. Since I rigged up my old pickup with a new, touchscreen dashboard, I can see that it’s May calling without touching my cell.

I tap the button on the dashboard and say, “Hey, May. I bought burgers for?—”

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