Page 109 of Truck You

Sophia

I’ve never been more ready for a day to end. Seeing Mac and the way he ran off without talking to me stung worse than our fight at the bar.

The bar fight didn’t make me cry. He was irrationally angry that night. But today he was hurting.

Today I saw just how much pain he holds inside himself. All I wanted to do was hold him close and promise him it would all be fine. That I’d make him happy if he’d just let me in.

Today, I cried.

It took me a good ten minutes hiding in the bathroom before I got myself under control and could get back to work. Thankfully, Mac’s brothers hadn’t returned to the garage yet, and I had a little more time to regain my composure.

It’s been about an hour since Liam and Christian returned, and so far, so good. But I’m pretty sure Christian knows something is wrong. He keeps watching me.

At one point, he even walked up to me and stared at me like he could read my deepest thoughts. His intense, knowing stare was almost enough to make me cry again.

He even went as far as to ask me if I was okay. He spoke to me. Christian rarely speaks. Thankfully, he didn’t push when I told him I was fine. He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t force the issue either. We both went back to work like he never asked me a thing.

At least Chase and Ash aren’t back. They’d definitely push. Those two don’t know the meaning of the word boundaries.

“Sophia,” Liam calls out for me, making me jump. I’m so lost in my thoughts. I’ve blocked out all background noise. “Got time for one more oil change before you leave?”

I inwardly groan. I’d just finished up what I thought was my last job. There’s still forty-five minutes left in my shift, but I was hoping to sneak out early. I need a drink. Maybe lots of drinks.

“Sure thing,” I hear myself say, despite how much my inner turmoil is screaming no.

“Thanks.” He steps up beside me and narrows his eyes. “You okay?”

I nod, quickly turning away because my eyes sting at his question. I refuse to let any of them see me cry.

He hesitates, and I sense he wants to ask me more, but he doesn’t. “Alright. Mr. Bevins is a regular, so we do our best to accommodate him. He’s a hoverer. Asks tons of questions, but he’s a good man. Try not to let him get to you.”

I force a chuckle. “I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with hoverers before.”

He squeezes my shoulder, and it feels so much like something a caring big brother would do to let me know he has my back. Again, I fight the damn tears. I don’t cry in front of people.

“While you prep, I’ll pull his car into the bay. He’s particular about who drives it.”

He hands me the clipboard before he walks away. I scan it for the make and model and chuckle. At least this time it’s a real laugh. Mr. Bevins drives a 1980 Buick Regal, and he only has twenty-two thousand miles on it. Looks like he’s not just particular about who drives but also where and how far.

By the time I return with the oil and filter, the car is in the bay and up on the jack. Liam is standing beside a man who looks old enough to be his great-grandfather. He’s thin and frail, and I’d bet money a strong wind could blow him over.

But when he speaks, nothing about him sounds frail. His voice is strong and playful. “Well, who do we have here?”

Liam smiles. “Mr. Bevins, this is Sophia. She joined us a couple of months ago. She’s a great mechanic and will do an excellent job on your car.”

Mr. Bevins’s eyes light up. “A female mechanic. I’ve never met one of those.”

While there’s no judgment or malice behind his words, they still make me cringe. Liam notices and quickly jumps in to assure me it’s fine. “We only hire the best. Sophia will take good care of you.”

“Oh sure.” Mr. Bevins beams. “That’s why I only bring my car to you.”

Liam gives me a nod before he says goodbye to Mr. Bevins and lets me get to work.

I quickly slide under the car before Mr. Bevins engages me in conversation. Not because I can’t handle talking to him, but because I want to get out of here as soon as possible.

Once the oil is draining, I slide out, and he’s right there next to the front bumper, staring down at me like I’m the coolest thing he’s seen in ages.

“You’re a pretty thing.” His smile is bright and wide. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that. You have the prettiest blue eyes. Reminds me of my Anne.”

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