Page 93 of Ice Mechanic

“April…”

“Can we just go? Please?”

Looking unsure and very concerned, Rebel starts the car and drives in silence.

I wantto change out of this dress and into something more comfortable. Unfortunately, May refuses to let me change.

“Are you crazy? You look like a million bucks right now. Why would you go celebrate with Chance in your over-alls? That makes no sense!” My sister shakes her head as if I’m a lost cause.

“I don’t know where he’ll take me tonight. It might be something casual.”

“With you, inthatdress, he better drive out of town to one of those fancy restaurants everyone posts about.”

I’ll admit that the dress looks great and, maybe if it was the start of the night, I’d agree with May. However, the thought of being ‘on’ for another fake relationship performance exhausts me. As exciting as the hockey game was—despite having no idea what was happening on the ice at all—it took a lot out of my social batteries.

“Don’t look so upset,” May coos. “Come take a look at this.”

“At what?”

May turns her cell phone toward me and scrolls through a page full of article headings.

“It’s not only the sports magazines. Celebrity gossip mags are talking about you too. Plus your hashtag has almost a million hits.”

My heart jumps to my throat. “Did you say… a million?”

“People love a heart-warming romance and you gave them a show.” She navigates to another page full of pictures.

It seems like everyone is talking about our kiss. There are images of us from different angles too—up high, to the left, and to the right. In every image shot, Chance’s hands are low on my waist and my hands are tight around his neck.

Covering my eyes, I turn away. “Can you not?”

“What? You two look great! And that kiss? It was hot.”

“May…” I groan.

“But next time, don’t mush your lips against his like that,” May coaches. “It’s not as aesthetically pleasing as him cupping your mouth with his bottom lip?—”

“Argh!” I grab the nearest weapon, which so happens to be a pillow, and throw it at her. “Stop.”

She easily dodges my fluffy blue missile. “Why are you acting shy? You weren’t a scaredy cat when you ran out on the stadium to make out with Chance McLanely.”

“It was akiss, not making out. And hecalledme on the ice,” I defend.

“Sure, he did.” May smirks.

I reach for another pillow to throw at her, but she hands me her laptop instead.

“Check it out. The garage’s website is getting a ton of new inquiries.”

“Wow, that’s a lot,” I mumble. Tapping the laptop keys, I skim the emails.

May nods proudly. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll send an online form for people to fill out. Then I’m going to post a message announcing you have a tight schedule, so if they want a consult with you, they need to pre-pay. That will drive up the demand for the garageandget you money immediately so we can pay off some bills.”

I look up at May’s earnest grin. “Squirt, I think you might be a genius.”

May rolls her eyes at the nickname. “Even if only a conservative percentage of these inquiries pan out, you’ll be extremely busy tomorrow and next week. And then, when you fix all those cars, showing what an amazing mechanic you are, the word will spread even faster.”

“It really worked…” I breathe in awe.

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