Page 15 of Beneath the Hood

By the time I make it through the doors from the garage, Blakely’s already seated behind the front desk, her face barely visible over the high top that doubles as a counter.

I peer down at her. “Hey, princess.”

“Jackson.” She stares at me, chewing on her bottom lip.

“What?” I ask, my brows rising.

“Nothing, you’re just—” She waves her hand around. “Chipper.”

I point to myself. “I’malwayschipper.”

She snorts. “Not with me.”

A stab of guilt pricks me in the chest. I’ve never taken joy in being seen as an asshole, but I don’t know how else to handle her without letting her get too close.

Humming, I flip through the Donahue Motors pamphlets sitting in the display case to my right. “So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?”

She scrunches her nose. “Why? You gonna play babysitter again?”

I smirk. “Let’s not pretend you don’t like it.”

She cocks her head. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Should I be?” Dropping the pamphlets, I lock my gaze with hers, the yellow center of her eyes spearing me right in the fucking chest.

“Noooo.” She draws out the syllables, like even she doesn’t believe the word as it leaves her lips. “You haven’t…” She hesitates, running her hand through her shiny hair. “You’re not online much, huh. No Facebook or anything?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“How come?”

“My friends—” The thought of Lee and Chase makes me pause, and I clear my throat to cover the break in my voice. “I learned a long time ago that nothing good comes from people being in your business. Some things should stay private.”

She sucks on her teeth, nodding slowly.

My stomach clenches, something settling over my body—a warning. “Why?”

Cringing, she toys with the cord of the phone’s headset, twirling it between her fingers. “There may or may not be a photo of us from last night.”

“A photo…” I repeat her words, thinking about what that means. I don’t reallywantmy picture anywhere, but I’m not an idiot. I knew it was a possibility when we went out—especially once I realized she was more well-known than I gave her credit for.

I sigh, resting my chin in my hand, letting the silence stretch uncomfortably before I finally smile. “Was it a good one?”

Her eyes widen, a grin creeping over her face. My stomach jumps.

“Duh.” She flips her hair behind her shoulder, her eyes peeking at me from under her lashes. “I thought you’d be more… upset?”

“Upset because…?”

Picking up her phone, she stands, leaning over the desk and showing me the headline on TMZ.

I take in the photo of us, my breath stuttering as my heart kicks against my ribs.

“Thisis why. I wasn’t sure how you’d take being plastered all over… how you’d like being seen with me. Theprincessyou love to hate.”

My lips curl up, but my eyes stay glued on the picture, the memory of that moment diving straight into my chest and squeezing. I wassoclose to feeling her under my hands. To sucking the brat off her tongue and bending her body until it broke me of my grief.

Sliding my gaze away from the screen, I lean in close, her mouth a slight twitch away from touching mine. “I don’t hate you, Blake.”

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