Page 14 of Hollyhocks

“Grump,” I mumble under my breath.

He knocks on the window. “I heard that,” he shouts, his voice muffled from the closed window.

I smile at him, giving Creed a friendly wave and he lowers the blinds, so he doesn’t have to look at me.

“I’ll win him over one day. I have no doubt,” I say positively to myself, smile, and head into the garage just in time to see my appointment pull in.

I wave her in, and she rolls down her window. “Hey, Fitz! How are you?” she asks, a bright genuine smile on her face, and I know she is interested. She bats her eyelashes, roaming her sights up and down my body with a small bite of her bottom lip.

I wish I was interested but this woman doesn’t even pique my interest. Holly is the one running through my mind.

If I were a normal man wanting a normal woman, I’d ask her out, but I’d rather live in my delusions than settle for what I’m supposed to.

I might need to get my head checked because my mind was playing tricks on me when I looked at Holly because that can’t be right. I saw a monster. I saw horns. I don’t know if I’m that far gone or if I’m too wishful with what I want, but Iwasn’t interested in the blonde woman in the driver’s seat. I am obsessed with what IthoughtI saw.

Light purple skin. Horns. Fangs.

Fuck yes, those fangs. I can’t stop imagining them sinking into my throat or my cock.

I turn my body away so Ms. Livingston can’t see my cock hardening in my jeans. I don’t want her to think my arousal is for her. Not that she isn’t a pretty woman, she is, but my body and mind do not want a normal woman. That’s just how it is.

“I’m doing alright, Ms. Livingston. Loving that I get to have my coffee any time I want. Can’t get any better than that, am I right?” I flash a friendly smile.

She blushes, waving her hand at me as she lightly scoffs. “Oh, please, Fitz. Call me Lily. Ms. Livingston is my mother.”

Discomfort swirls in my gut. I don’t want to call her Lily because then she might think I’m interested. I need to keep it professional. Damn it, why do I do this to myself all the time? My insides twist into knots during these types of situations because I really hate hurting people.

I feel deeply. I care too much about everyone and everything before myself. I’d hate it if Ms. Livingston thought she wasn’t good enough for me when that is not the case at all.

“Sorry, Ms. Livingston. Don’t take it personally. I’m at work and I like to keep things professional here. I hope you understand.”

She smiles and it reaches her eyes that crinkle on the sides, showing she is a few years older than me.

Whew.I’m glad.

I don’t tend to do well when someone is upset with me. I spiral and want to do everything I can to make their happiness return. Then, I become annoying. It’s a vicious cycle I’m trying to break.

“Oh, I understand completely. You’re so professional, Fitz. I really like that about you.”

Well, that backfired.

I smile, opening the door for her to get out so I can drive her car into the bay. “No problem. Why don’t you go to Demi’s Diner for some coffee while I get this car to the highest of standards?”

Ms. Livingston grins and holds out her hand for me to take to help her out. Internally, I groan, and guilt tightens my stomach for a brief moment when her palm slides against mine.

Panic slips up my throat. Sweat beads on the back of my neck. The odd feeling of dishonesty overwhelms me as if I’m cheating on my partner, but I don’t have one. The image of Holly comes into my mind which is outrageous because I don’t know that woman.

Butgoddamn, I sure do want to.

“I’ll make sure to call when the car is done,” I inform, slipping my hand free as I grab the doorframe.

“Not a problem. I look forward to it.” She hikes her oversized purse up her shoulders, spins around on her heels, and sashays away by putting an extra sway into her hips.

An eerie force drapes over me as I get in the car. I pause and get out, placing my foot on the ground while I take a quick look around. The wind blows cool air promising winter and snow.

My eyes water from the quick chill and I rub them on my shirt sleeve before studying the area. I know I’m being watched. The only way I know how to explain it is a slight weight on my chest that resembles anxiety and curiosity.

“Everything alright, Fitz?” Rhett pops his head out of bay one while wiping his oil-drenched hands on a stained rag.

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