Page 3 of Tangled Desires

“Anytime,” I say, waving them inside. “I’ll grab it for you now.” The girls follow me in, and the familiar smell of oil and metal hits me. Just as I’m handing the part to Isla, Michael strolls out from the back.

“Hey, Isla. Hey, Imogen,” he says with a wave. Both of them wave back. I pull a face, acting all wounded.

“Oh, so Mike gets a hello, but not me?” I ask Imogen.

Isla chuckles, but Imogen just shrugs. “Maybe he’s more likeable.”

I roll my eyes, grinning. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

Michael starts chatting to Isla about Callie and Xavier, the conversation flowing easy. I barely register the words—nah, I’m too busy watching Imogen. There’s something about her presence that makes the whole shop feel a little lighter; even if she’s scowling. She’s pretending not to notice me watching, but I can see right through her. She’s just as aware of me as I am of her.

How can I not stare? She’s got on a tight black tank top that hugs her curves just right and a pair of ripped jean shorts that accentuate her long legs. Her tank top is doing amazing things for her rack, and I’m fighting the urge to not just stare at them. Ishouldstop before I get a fucking hard on.

Her bright blonde hair is styled in those signature loose curls, cascading down her shoulders like a golden waterfall. She’s fucking sexy, with that whole untouchable, ice-queen appeal that drives me crazy.

“So, what are your plans for the evening?” Michael asks, leaning against the counter, breaking me out of my thoughts.

Isla sighs. “Hopefully, I’ll have the little one down in time to relax and spend some time with Xav.”

Michael nods. “And what about you?” He turns to Imogen.

“Nothing much. Might hit up some drinks, don’t know yet.” She waves her hand dismissively.

My curiosity is nowverypiqued. “Oh yeah, with who?”

She puts a hand to her hip, her eyes challenging. “None of your business.”

One of the boys in the back lets out a low whistle, but I’m not deterred. I want to know who she’s seeing tonight—and why the fuck it isn’t me.

“Come on, Immy. Spill.”

Isla suddenly blurts out, “Oh, she has a date tonight. Isn’t that right?”

Imogen’s eyes go wide, and she smacks Isla’s arm, her face flushing. “Isla!”

Isla realises she’s stepped in it too late; a frown is already pulling on my face. “A date? With who?”

Imogen avoids my eye contact. “Again, none of your business.” The shop goes quiet, everyone watching the exchange. The tension’s thick, but I can’t help myself.

“Come on, Immy, who’s the lucky guy?” Isla flashes me an apologetic smile, but I’m already too deep in it. The thought of her with someone else doesn’t sit right. I need to know. Even if it’s none of my business.

Her jaw tightens, and she looks ready to throw something at me. “Why do you care?”

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Just curious.”

She turns away. “Well, stay curious. You’re not getting an answer from me.”

“I know almost everyone in town.”Lies. “I’ll find out sooner or later. So you might as well just tell me.”

Imogen’s refusal to answer me only fuels my irritation. The silence between us stretches, and the thought of her meeting up with another bloke does not sit well in my stomach.

2

Just a Girl - No Doubt

Why I let Isla convince me to come here is beyond me.

I knew we’d end up at the shop, knew Harrison would be here, yet I still agreed to come. The nerve of this motorhead. It’s none of his bloody business who I’m seeing later or what I’m doing.

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