Page 28 of Keep Me Safe

I’m thirty-six years old—old enough to be her father. There’s no reason for me to be thinking like this. She needed somewhere safe to stay, and here I am, getting lost in fantasies. I’m the one who should be protecting her, not…wanting her.

Yanking open my bedroom door, I collapse onto the bed. Nothing like that is ever happening again. I’ll make sure of it.Kira needs a safe space right now, I’m not going to fuck that up for her.

I don’t understand why I can’t control myself around her. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten laid, that’s it. She just happens to be an attractive woman living in my house who also just happens to walk around half-naked sometimes. Rolling over, I ignore my aching cock, forcing myself to try to sleep.

In the end, I only get a couple of hours. When I wake up, Kira has already left for work. Jared’s gone, too, although I have no idea where he went. He’s starting to worry me with how much he’s partying.

I eat a small breakfast and spend the morning doing some chores. Jared helps sometimes, but the majority of the cleaning falls on me. Or at least it did. Now that Kira’s been staying here, she’s been helping with a lot of the housework.

The scents of grease and oil mix together, invading my nose as I step into the garage. It’s one of my favorite smells. This is my happy place. It’s me and the car, nothing else. I open the garage door, letting in the warm, almost summer air, and move the arms of the lift under the body of the Nova. I had it installed about a year ago, wanting to get serious about getting her running.

I slot the new fuel pump into place, tightening the bolts surrounding it before replacing the fuel tank. Sliding out from under the body of the car, I go to start it. After a couple of tries, the loud purr of the engine fills the space, resonating through my body. Grabbing a red rag off my workbench, I wipe my hands off, trying to remove all the grime.

“Hey, McDreamy!” I’d know that voice anywhere, not to mention the nickname that I haven’t been able to rid myself of since we were in high school. I maneuver around the car. Keithis standing at the entrance to the garage. Looking past him, I notice his old beat-up Chevy parked in the drive.

“Runnin’yet?” he asks.

“Soon, hopefully,” I tell him.

I’ve known Keith since we were in elementary school. We’ve always been friends, and he lives across the street. He doesn’t look much different from when we were younger. He still has bright blonde hair, but now a beard covers his face, and he’s filled out a bit. He used to be so goddamn skinny. I chuckle at the thought.

We chat for a bit, talking about work and life. I tell him about the commissioner retiring and how I have no idea who will replace him. He’s a contractor, so he explains his most recent job, a deck for one of our neighbors.

“I’m telling you, man, she was hitting on me. She even invited me to stay for drinks!” he exclaims.

“And did you?”

“I couldn’t. I had the girls that night.”

I nod, laughing.

My phone goes off in my pocket, and I pull it out.

Jared:I won’t be home tonight. Staying over at Jake’s

I’m not surprised. He’s over there more than he’s home.

I shoot him a short response, letting him know it’s fine with me.

I invite Keith for dinner, but he mutters something about having to take the girls to town before leaving.

It looks like it’ll be Kira and I for dinner then. We haven’t spoken since last night. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I should have stopped it sooner. I shouldn’t have touched her tobegin with. She’s way too young, and I’m pretty sure Jared has a thing for her. The way he looks at her and touches her. The thought makes my stomach twist. There has to be something between them.

After a quick shower, I get started on dinner. Tonight’s menu features homemade chicken fettuccine Alfredo. The aroma of garlic, cream, and seasoning fills the kitchen, making my stomach growl. The garlic bread is toasty in the oven, and I’ve set the table for two. Kira should be home any minute. She usually gets off work at five, and it’s already fifteen minutes past.

I should apologize. Last night was inappropriate. I shouldn’t have let things go that far. I need to reassure her that it won’t happen again. The pasta slides onto two plates as I scoop it from the pot. By five-thirty, I begin to feel a knot of concern tightening in my chest. Maybe she got held up at work.

I pull out my phone and shoot her a quick text.

Noah:Dinner’s getting cold.

By six-thirty, my concern turns to irritation. She hasn’t replied. Wouldn’t she have told me if she was going to be late? I dial her number. No answer. My stomach tightens. Something doesn’t feel right.

I pack up the food and toss it in the fridge, then grab my keys. I try to avoid imagining the worst. The drive to the store is short, though the speed I’m driving at seems to make it even shorter.

When I arrive, her car isn’t in the parking lot. My pulse quickens, but I force myself to stay calm. Maybe she’s with Jared and his friends. Still, something feels off. I don’t think she’s fond of his friends. I redial her number—straight to voicemail. Where the hell is she?

I text Jared, but he doesn’t respond either. I hesitate for a moment before deciding to head back home. She’s probably fine.I tell myself that over and over, but it doesn’t stop the dread gnawing at me.

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