Page 25 of Tuned To Break
After we hang up, I sit in my driveway like a statue, the night air pressing in through the cracked windows. My fingers drum on the steering wheel, restless, while every second replays in high-def clarity. The way his breath felt hot against my neck, the possessive edge in his voice, the weight of his hand on my throat like a brand.
Maybe Megan’s right. Maybe I’m already past the point of no return.
As I finally head inside and peel off my clothes, Jake’s parting words echo like a prophecy: When you change your mind—and you will—you know where to find me.
I do know where to find him. In the place where we both work.
And there lies the problem, because I think I already changed my mind.
CHAPTER SIX
JAKE
The smell of sizzling meat and the sound of laughter fill Arden’s backyard as I grab another beer from the esky, the cold condensation immediately beading on my fingers in the oppressive heat. Saturday afternoon BBQs at his place have become a regular thing for the last few months. Their house has everything you could want: a pool, an outdoor kitchen that’s better equipped than most restaurants, and enough space for all of us to hang out without feeling like we’re stepping on each other’s toes.
I settle into one of the comfortable outdoor chairs and watch the easy chaos of our chosen family in full swing. It’s the kind of afternoon that should help me relax, but my mind keeps drifting back to last night.
To Stella sitting on her desk, her green eyes wide with desire, as I made her come apart with my fingers. The way she felt pressed against me, the little sounds she made when I touched her, the way her body responded to mine like we were made for each other.
Fuck. Even thinking about it is making me hard.
“Jake, stop hogging the good beer,” José calls out from his spot by the pool where he’s trying to impress Ally with his non-existent diving skills. The man’s about as graceful as a brick, but his enthusiasm more than makes up for his lack of technique. It’s almost comical because José knows that Ally is taken.
“There’s plenty more in the esky, you lazy bastard,” I call back, gesturing toward the esky that’s practically overflowing with ice and alcohol. Arden never does anything by halves.
Arden himself is manning the BBQ with the precision of a chef, which is typical for him these days. The guy approaches everything like it’s a business operation—systematic, efficient, and absolutely determined to achieve perfection. He’s got the steaks arranged in perfect rows, a timer going for each piece of meat, and he’s monitoring temperatures like he’s conducting a symphony. From what I’ve heard, Arden never used to do these kinds of things. He’d have someone else do it, but apparently his wife, Ella, has made him change for the better, it would seem.
Ella’s inside with Yasmin, preparing salads, their laughter occasionally drifting out through the open sliding doors. Meanwhile, Asher and Rhys are locked in what looks like a heated debate about the best way to restore a ‘69 Camaro, their hands moving animatedly as they argue the merits of different restoration approaches.
“Earth to Jake,” Chase waves a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You’ve been staring at that beer bottle for five minutes like it holds the secrets of the universe.”
“Just thinking,” I mutter, taking a long swig of beer to cover my embarrassment.
“About a certain redhead who’s been running our workshop all week?” There’s a shit-eating grin on his face as he pauses in his debate with Rhys to focus his attention on me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit,” José pipes in, hauling himself up from the pool to sit on the edge with water dripping from his hair. “Mate, thesexual tension between you two is so thick you could cut it with a knife. We’ve all seen the way you look at each other.”
He’s not wrong, and I’m guessing everyone knows it. The attraction between Stella and me has been obvious from day one, building to something inevitable.
“And the way you both find excuses to be in the same area of the workshop,” Chase joins back into the conversation and settles back in his chair with a smug expression. “Suddenly you need to check on projects that are nowhere near your workstation, and coincidentally, that’s exactly where Stella happens to be.”
“Don’t forget the coffee incident on Tuesday,” Asher chimes in, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “I thought Jake was going to bend her over that machine right then and there.”
The memory of that morning hits me like a physical blow. Stella pressed against the coffee machine, my body caging her in, the way her breath caught when I leaned close. For a moment, I’d forgotten we weren’t alone, forgotten everything except the way she felt against me.
Heat creeps up my neck, and I know they can all see it. “You lot are reading too much into things.”
“Are we?” Arden contributes, turning from the BBQ with a spatula in hand, his expression more serious than I’ve seen all afternoon, and I wonder what he’s thinking. If he’s contemplating chewing my arse out, or what. “Because from what Chase has told me, you’ve been acting like a lovesick teenager all week.”
The accusation stings because I have been acting differently since Stella started working with us—distracted and hyperaware of her every move. It’s pathetic, really, how completely she’s gotten under my skin.
“I have not?—”
“You brought her lunch on Wednesday,” Chase interrupts, ticking off evidence on his fingers like he’s building a legal case. “You have never brought anyone lunch. In the two years I’ve known you, you’ve never once thought to feed another human being.”
“You stayed late three nights this week,” José adds, “and coincidentally, so did she. Funny how you suddenly discovered a passion for overtime.”
