Page 16 of Untouchable

“Fuck it,” I mumble to myself, shooting off a text before getting up to shift my mind on my work. This truck isn’t going to fix its damn self.

Four hours later, the truck is running like new, and I smile to myself when I hear it roar to life. I’ll never not get a feeling of satisfaction when I can fix things that are broken. I look down at my phone to see a message from a number I don’t recognize.

Unknown Number

I heard from a mutual friend that you're looking for some companionship. I’ll be around for you tonight, sugar.

The disappointment I feel reading that message is enough to tell me I should just delete it and not even bother asking who it is. I’m still staring down at my phone when a car pulls up, brakes squealing when it comes to a stop outside the bay I’ve been working in. I lock my phone and pocket it when I hear the car door slam. The customer service smile I was preparing to give quickly vanishes when I look up to see Katarina standing next to her Impala. The last four hours I spent getting her out of my head becomes useless when my eyes land on her. Tan legs ondisplay in black cutoff shorts, her same heeled combat boots on her feet, but the thing that really makes me pause is seeing her in the shirt I gave her this morning withmyfucking bandana tied around her hair like a headband.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home today?”

The sunglasses she wears can’t hide the eye roll I can practically feel in my bones as she walks towards me. “You don’t own me, Hernández. And I needed sustenance.”

“Does this look like a fucking drive-thru?” I cross my arms over my chest as she storms up to me.

“What the hell crawled up your ass and died?” God her fucking attitude is unparalleled. When I don’t answer, she continues. “I went through a drive-thru, and when I stopped, my brakes almost busted the speaker.”

I raise a brow at her. “And?”

She holds her hands out, her keys dangling out of her palm. “AndI need my baby fixed.” My tongue glides across my bottom lip, a frustrated habit I’ve had for forever, as I try to think of any reason to tell her no. “Come on, Ace. You’re the best when it comes to antique cars. I need you to be the one to work on her, or I’ll hover the whole time.”

I walk over and snatch the keys from her hand. “How can I say no when you kiss ass so well.” I walk past her and up to her car, but she rushes up behind me, stopping me by my arm before looking down at my hands.

“Get grease in my car and I’ll hang you in the clubhouse by your balls, like a taxidermy deer.”

I turn to face her completely, and she purses her lips. “Tempting.” She turns on her heel and walks back into the garage, looking around.

“Where do I wait?” Her blonde locks blow in the wind, and she tosses them out of her face as she looks at me with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean?”

“For my car? Where do I wait?” I smirk, looking down as I kick a rock away from my boots.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” She looks confused and irritated. “I have to get that Silverado cleaned up, call Jimmy to come pick it up, then I have a meeting tonight. I won’t get to look at it until tomorrow at least.” She sighs, biting on the inside of her cheek.

“Okay, I’ll just bring it back tomorrow then.” She grabs for her keys, and I hold them out of her reach.

“You’re not driving it until I check the brakes.” Her hand falls as well as her expression.

“Then how the hell am I supposed to get anywhere? I can’t just ask Tabitha to take me everywhere. She’s not a taxi driver, and she has a life.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

She laughs a little louder than I find necessary. “I’ll just call Bodine.”

The fuck she will.

“He’s probably out towing, and he’s gotta be at the same meeting with me later anyways, so just…hang out at the desk until I’m done and I’ll give you a ride home.” Her spine straightens and her chin tips up.

“Fine.”

“Don’t touch anything. And don’t wander off.”

“I’m not a dog,” she mumbles, her hips swaying with every step towards my desk. She plops down in my chair, then props one foot over the other on top of my desk and gives me a snarky look before picking up a magazine to flip through.

I shake my head and toss her keys on a hook on the wall, washing my hands before I get Jimmy’s truck shined up and looking like new. By the time I get it out on the lot with his keys in the visor, the sun is starting to set. As if the pink, blueand orange sky wasn’t captivating enough, Katarina steps into golden hour, reminding me why I’ve kept my eyes off of her for so fucking long. She pulls a bag out of the trunk of her car and starts changing lenses on her camera before snapping pictures of the sunset.

I wonder if anyone ever takes photos of the photographer?

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