Page 9 of Beneath the Hood

Sighing, I text him back the address, telling him to meet me at the house and ride with us. I walk over to where Lennox sits and stare down at him, sweat beading on my cooling forehead, my hands on my hips. “I have a friend showing up here soon, his name is Jackson. Tall guy, shaggy blond hair. If I’m busy will you make sure he’s let in?”

Lennox grunts a response, his icy blue eyes glancing my way before sliding behind me, his fingers tightening around the edges of his book. I spin around to see what stole his attention.

Kayla comes prancing into the gym and a smile overtakes my face. I’ve known Kayla since the first day of prep school. Her father is a sought-out director who works with mine frequently, so we bonded quickly, both of us knowing what it’s like to grow up in the belly of the beast that is the Hollywood elite.

“Hey, girl. I didn’t know if you were gonna make it tonight.” I wave.

She grins. “Duh. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Thought you’d be busy withJared.” My nose scrunches as I say his name.

Kayla’s smile dims. “Nope, I cut him loose.”

“Why?” I’m not really surprised. As quick as Kayla falls in love, she falls out faster. Even a perfect man would eventually fall off her pedestal.

She shrugs, running her hand through her pin-straight locks. “He kept asking aboutyou. Wouldn’t shut up about it, really. I’ve got literally zero interest in toting around somebody who’s only using me to get to you.”

My stomach tightens, her words jabbing me, even though I’m sure she didn’t mean them that way. “Really? He was kind of a dick to me.”

She shrugs again. “Probably because you weren’t giving him the attention he wanted.” She sighs, sticking her bottom lip out. “It sucks though. I really thought he was gonna be the one.”

I squint my eyes. “You always think that.”

“Yeah, well… one of these times, I’ll be right.”

Laughing, I toss my towel in the hamper near the door. “Your optimism is inspiring.”

“Good.” She smiles, plopping down across from Lennox. “Hi, Lenny.”

I stifle my smirk as I watch his jaw tense, his eyes boring holes into the pages of his book. Kayla is forever flirting with Lennox, and he’s forever ignoring she exists. Not that it deters her.

“Okay, you two play nice, I’m gonna go grab a shower.”

It isn’t until I’m rinsing the shampoo from my hair, the warm water cascading over my sore muscles, that the stillness creeps in. It allows me a free moment to drown in my thoughts, recognizing that in a houseful of people—all here for me—I’ve never felt so alone.

* * *

There arebutterflies doing flips in my stomach, and I have no idea why.

Okay, that’s a lie.

I have alittlebit of an idea why, and he’s currently sitting across the club, the ends of his blond hair brushing against his sharp jaw. It’s down tonight and has a slight wave, like he dipped in the California sea and let the salty water mold the strands.

My nerves meld into a different type of flutter when Kayla throws her head back, her white teeth gleaming as she laughs at something he says.

Why did I think it was okay to leave them alone together?

Jackson never showed up to the house, and Sierra wouldn’t let us wait, so I texted him to meet Lennox outside the club. But it didn’t cross my mind that my love-starved best friend would be his entertainment while I was working.

It doesn’t matter, I guess. I should be happy that he doesn’t seem bored to death. Clubs don’t really seem like his type of scene. To be honest, they’re not really mine either.

Kayla’s hand shoots out, caressing his arm. My fingernails press into my palms. Deep down I know I have nothing to worry about. As soon as she realizes he’s my father’s employee, someone who works on cars for a living, she’ll lose interest. But it doesn’t stop my stomach from tightening with irritation, because while I’m stuck on stage, a headache pounding between my ears, and a DJ who loves to play grab-ass—Kayla gets to enjoy the attention of Jackson Rhoades. It doesn’t seem fair. Even worse, he seems to be enjoying her company.

I skim along the lines of Kayla’s barely-there curves, her perfectly toned legs front and center. Green gusts of jealousy burn through my chest as I watch her guzzle big gulps of her blue drink. I wonder what it feels like to enjoy something so freely—to savor the taste as it rests on your tongue. To not have regret attacking your psyche with every sugary sip.

My eyes bounce to Jackson, his perfect smile pulling up one side of his pouty mouth, and his black T-shirt snug around his biceps. I’ve always thought maybe he was putting on a show with his flirtations—with his laid-back attitude. But in this setting, watching from afar, I realize it’s his natural gait. The charm exudes from his pores like it’s overflowing from the tap, and I know the second I walk over, it will disappear.

Am I that unpalatable? Is Kayla that much better?

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