Page 6 of Falling for the Mechanic
“Your communication skills aren’t the best.” I don’t know when she’s done it, but she’s approached me. Not even the wheels of her luggage give her away. “And you do come off pretty scary.”
Frowning, I don’t look at her. My lack of dispute only fuels her claim.
Can’t help that I don’t like talking to people. I’d rather be behind the scenes, tucked away inside here, and simply working on vehicles.
Life can’t be that simple. Instead, it continues to throw complex things my way.
A struggling business. A beautiful woman who doesn’t bother holding back her opinion. What’s next?
“My ride is here. Thanks for everything, seriously.” She pauses, looking like she’s debating on saying more. Personally, I think she’s said enough. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”
And with that, I’m left watching her leave. Once I’m alone again, back in my definition of paradise, my muscles are finally relaxing.
She’s got in my head now, picking at my problems like they’re easy to fix.
I can smile, but that doesn’t make me nice. I can pretend to understand a customer’s problems, but they act like they know the end of the world.
She thinks I’m scary. How in the hell do I fix that?
Picking up my socket wrench, my brows furrow together at the thought.
Do I really scare people? Do I really scareher?
Fuck.
3
Chelsea
Once I’m standing in front of my parents’ home, and the Lyft driver is long gone, I know there’s no turning back.
When I see Finn sitting on the porch swing with a cigarette pinched between his lips, I can already tell this is going great. For a moment, I feel a little ease in my chest as I drag my luggage toward him.
I pass his motorcycle parked behind Dad’s truck, surprised he’d risk driving it in this cold weather. Then again, he’s always loved doing whatever he wants, even if it puts himself in danger.
“You—” He blows out a puffy white cloud of smoke as his eyes meet mine. “—are a pain in my ass.”
My smile stretches as I abandon my luggage near the screen door and opt to join him. Settling against the cool seat, I push off so we sway.
“I missed you, too.” Humming the words, I swat away the next wave of smoke away.
Unlike me, who immediately ran away from the town as soon as I hit eighteen, Finn stuck around. Got himself a place to stay and opened up a business to call his own. Despite staying close to our family, he keeps his distance as much as I do.
“How bad is it?” Sucking on my teeth, I listen to the low creaks as we move.
He taps the heel of his boot against the concrete below and squints ahead. “Well…Mom’s already thrown a fit about the bad energy in the air, and you being late is solid proof of it.” He clicks his tongue, his frown deepening. “Then she saw my new art and had a meltdown. Been outside since.”
I don’t want to ask him how many cigarettes he’s gone through. Instead, I look him over, searching for the difference. Hard to see with his jacket.
“What does she expect? You own the sickest parlor in town. Sometimes, you have to draw on yourself.” Reaching toward him, I pluck at his sleeve. “Show me.”
He does. Opening up his jacket and plucking down the collar of his shirt, I can see most of what looks like a sun. It’s a little strange looking, kind of like a tribal tattoo.
“That’s sick, actually.” The compliment comes out naturally, and I catch his frown softening.
Straightening his jacket, he finishes off his cigarette and leans back. “Still a blank canvas?”
He asks me every time we meet up, and when I tell him yes, he always tells me he offers a family discount. This time, we’re changing things up.
