Page 73 of Win Some Love Some
Dad pulledup to the garage and put the truck in park. The seagulls were up and the sun was turning the eastern sky pink. It was just after dawn so I was surprised to see the garage bay doors were already opened.
Usually, I was one cup of coffee in before Nick came down from the apartment above the garage.
Not today.
Maybe he couldn’t sleep either.
“Nick says you’re looking at used cars,” Dad said, lifting his chin in the direction of the garage.
“I need to find something. You can’t keep driving me to work, like I’m a teenager.”
“I thought this was our time,” Dad said with a yawn.
I laughed at him. “You don’t talk the entire drive over here.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it’s not our time.”
That was such a Dad thing to say I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling. Affectionately, of course. “Do you want to be a part of the decision?”
“Thank you. I know Nick knows his shit, obviously, but I just want…”
“To be involved,” I supplied for him. “I know. But, Dad, if I decide, even if you think it might be wrong, you have to let me do it. It’s called maturing.”
“It’s called stupid,” he grumbled. “But I’ll do it.”
I leaned over to kiss his cheek and got out of his old truck. Walking across the street to the garage, I took a deep breath andprepared myself for what could possibly be the most awkward conversation of my life.
It couldn’t be more awkward than the night of my eighteenth birthday, could it? It couldn’t be harder than moving to France all on my own. It couldn’t be worse than being humiliated in front of the whole world.
That’s right. I was tough. I was a woman of the world. Nick was just Nick. I didn’t have to be scared.
I stepped into the garage and Nick popped out from under a car hood.
He wore navy coveralls and his chin was scruffy and his hair was messy and my tough woman of the world heart skipped a beat.
Nick – upon seeing me – winced.
Yes. Winced! Like seeing me caused some phantom pain. Reminded him of things he’d rather forget.
Asshole.
“Nick,” I said, not letting myself back down from the hard conversation. “We have to talk.”
Thoughtfully, he nodded. “I’ve been thinking a lot the past two days.”
Interesting. He was admitting to having thoughts. About me. For two days.
“And?”
“I say we just ignore it.”
“Ignore it?”
Honest to God, I should have expected that.
“Yeah,” He nodded, smiling like he’d solved the problem, and I stomped past him back to the office. If I was going to have a real conversation with this emotionally stunted man, I was going to need to be caffeinated.
I stopped just inside the door of the office. On the desk was a to-go coffee cup and a brown paper bag from Common Grounds.
