Page 9 of Counterfeit Boyfriend
“Thank you for doing this,” I said. “I should probably learn how to change it myself in case this happens again.”
“No time like the present.” He patted the spot in front of him. “Get down here.”
Me and my big mouth.It was one thing to learn; it was another to have someone watch me learn. I dropped down, feeling the heat of the tarmac soaking into the knees of my jeans. At least the temperature hadn’t raised much in the past hour—I’d been in this parking lot when it was sticky from the beating sun.
“Just lift the tire into place,” Evan said, his breath stirring my hair and his chest bumping my back as he reached around and helped me maneuver it onto the bolts. At least I thought they were called bolts.
Once the spare was in place, he handed me a lug nut and a cross-wrench thingie. I twisted the lug nut on as tightly as I could, and then looked over my shoulder at him.
“Good job.” He reached around me and gave the wrench an extra twist, which brought him tighter against me.
I’m liking this lesson more and more.Evan was also more patient than I would’ve given him credit for. This morning kept pointing out all the good qualities about him that I’d somehow missed.
With the tire firmly in place, I twisted the handle on the jack until the car was back down and resting on the tire. Evan stood and extended a hand to help me up.
“You’ll need to get it into a tire shop soon,” he said, “because the spare isn’t meant for a lot of miles or going fast.”
“I’ll take it in after work tonight.”
He went to putting the tools back in my trunk and then reloaded all the animal food. “Do you have someone at work to help you unload this stuff?”
“Yeah. The vet techs or one of the groomers usually help me.”
Evan swiped his hands together, slammed the trunk closed, and then led me to the driver’s side door, going so far as to open it for me.
I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Thanks so much for helping me with my tire. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
“I’ll, uh, call you later?”
He nodded. Then his eyes went wide and he shook his head. “Wait, no. You can’t. Call me.”
His moods seemed to be on some kind of whiplash spin cycle all morning, and just when I thought I had one figured out, the wrong word would cause this type of strange reaction. “Oh-kay, if you’re that opposed to talking on the phone, I’ll just text? At least to set a firm time to push off tomorrow morning. Unless you want to do that this second?”
“No, I mean… I just got a new phone number—long story.” He held out his hand. “Here. I’ll put my new number in your phone. Then you can call me.” His features softened and he smiled down at me. “And I hope you will.”
I put in my passcode, pulled up his contact info, and handed him the phone. “Seriously, what on earth were you drinking last night, because this hangover is doing a number on your charm level. Not that you aren’t usually charming, of course. This is just, like, a whole new level.” A genuine, less-showy level, one that made me think maybe I could lower the walls around my heart a little. Especially when I factored in changing my tire without so much as a complaint.
A sheepish grin accompanied his shrug. “Sorry. I have a confidentiality agreement with the bottle. It’s all very hush-hush.”
“I’ll get the truth out of you eventually.”
“I’m sure you will,” he said, and he almost sounded sad about it, which left me scratching my head again—figuratively anyway, because I wasn’t letting go of him before I had to. I was afraid that whatever spell he and I were under this morning would break if I let go.
He handed my phone back, and since I was going to be late enough as it was, I stuck with a quick peck on the lips instead of a repeat of our earlier kiss. Next time I got my lips on him, though, we were going to do more of that intense, world-spinning kind.
“Goodbye, Gwen,” he said in my ear, his voice deliciously rough.
“Goodbye, Evan.”
His parting look held a hint of disappointment, and while I’d love to think it was because my presence meant that much to him, I knew that couldn’t be it.
And now I was overanalyzing everything all over again, when I should be basking in the fact that I didn’t have to break up with my smoking hot boyfriend.
* * *
I pushed inside my apartment, completely exhausted from the day and having to spend an hour at the tire shop. My energy renewed a couple of bars when I saw Tori watching TV. I set down my laptop bag and catapulted the armrest to flop next to her on the couch. “Guess what, guess what?”
