Page 22 of Wasted On Us

That soulful gaze shouldn’t work. It should make me want to thwack him in the face with the nearest stapler. Instead, it makes my stomach do tiny little somersaults. How dare he be so good-looking? How dare just the sight of him bring a flood of memories slamming back into me?

His hands. His lips. His tongue.

I wish I could joke with him, but I can’t. None of this is worth the risk of my dad finding out and keeling over from a heart attack. “I just go where the temp agency sends me. Didn’t know I’d be here until this morning, either.”

“This is crazy convenient.” If Mateo notices my frosty demeanor, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps giving me these big doe eyes, like he’s never been more thrilled to see someone. “I got your car finished today, anyway.”

“How did you pull that off?” My jaw hangs open a mile wide. Every shop in the city has been backed up for weeks. Earlier this year, Mom needed the brake pads on her car replaced, and it took forever to get that done.

“I put a rush on it for you.” He shrugs like it was as easy as snapping his fingers. “I owe the guy who manages the parts department a case of beer and a ticket to a Caribou game … for himself and all six members of his family. But it’s no big deal!”

I can’t get over how sweet he is. I’ve never met a guy who is both this genuinely kind and over-the-top good-looking. You have to pick one or the other. And in my experience? I usually end up with the latter. Like Rick. I just have to keep reminding myself that Mateo García is too good to be true.

I peek at him from underneath my lashes. “Thank you, really.”

“C’mon. It’s parked right over there.” Motioning toward the side parking lot by the parts department, he dangles the keys in front of my desk. “Let’s take it for a spin.”

There is a moment where I consider it. Would it be that bad, just going for a drive? But then I think about how nice his lips felt, how muscular his chest looks under his tight button-down shirt, and how soft yet firm his hands are—and I have to stop myself before I faint. Because damn it, I wantmore. I wish there was a water fountain here I could stick my face into until I got some sense knocked into me. I don’t want a relationship. And certainly not one with Salvador García’s son.

“I’d love to but I have to go to my sister’s tonight. She got engaged and wants to talk about wedding venues.” The lie is close enough to the truth to sound convincing. He looks disappointed, but not offended. Too bad I still feel like an ass. “I’m really sorry.”

“Some other time?” he offers gently.

“Yeah. Another time.”

Another lifetime, perhaps. I take my tote bag and head off to my car, noticing immediately that not only has the bumper been fixed and the headlight replaced, but the interior and exterior of the car have been detailed to perfection. It makes me want to lay my head down on the horn and scream. After firing off a quick text to Ensley to let her know that I don’t need a ride, I glance up, but I can’t see Mateo through the glass.

Taking a deep breath, I call the temp agency. It’s the same receptionist who answers the phone, making me wonder if anyone else works there besides her and Eileen. I don’t think this woman goes home. She’s probably got a sleeping bag and a mini-fridge set up under her desk.

“I just got Monica’s report for the day. She said you did very well. She’s excited to have you on until their employee comes back from her maternity leave. Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

“I really can’t. It’s not their fault. I don’t want this to reflect badly upon García and Sons. It’s just some ridiculous family debacle. The owner sold my dad a car a few years back that didn’t work out, and it turned into this huge blow-up. A feud, you could call it. Things are… strained.”

“Ah,” she exhales into the receiver. “The old two households in Verona thing. I understand. I can wiggle things around a bit for you, but you’d have to expand your potential job pool.”

“I’ll do anything.” Seriously. At this point, I really would dig ditches or call numbers at the DMV. Anything to keep poking myself in the Mateo-shaped bruise on my heart.

“I hope you don’t regret saying that when you see where we’re sending you in the morning.”

“I look forward to the challenge,” I reply, as sweetly as I can, before hanging up the phone and hoping I don’t live to regret that statement.

Chapter Ten

Mateo

I’ve never had a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. I’m the sort of guy who rises with the sun, goes for a jog, and takes a nice cold shower before having a decent breakfast and kissing Abuelita goodbye. Today it goes even easier. I practically float through my morning routine, having enough time to run around an extra block in the neighborhood, and even then I have the energy left over to help Abuelita with breakfast. We make a beautiful batch of chilaquiles together, topping them with the most perfect eggs I’ve ever fried. Dad even joins us, a rare departure from his usual black coffee and a scowl.

All of this is because I finally have something to look forward to at the dealership, outside of quarterly reports, repeat customers, and the occasional bonus. I get to work with Eden, a fantastic turn of fortune that I couldn’t have anticipated in my wildest dreams.

So, of course, that dream comes to an abrupt end almost as soon as it starts. Instead of the beaming ray of sunshine that I so longed to see at Mandy’s old desk, there’s a complete stranger. A man in his thirties with a very full beard and not a single hair on the top of his head. Nice enough. Probably very competent at his job. Monica seems to like him enough already. But he certainly isn’t Eden.

I didn’t dare hope she would stay with us for the entire length of Mandy’s maternity leave, but I had assumed it would be for the next week or two, at least. Her presence for only one shift leaves me not only wanting more but concerned that I’ve done something terrible. And I’m not sure what it could be when I barely spoke to her yesterday.

I must look bereft standing by the dealership door because Lucy sees it as the perfect cue to start needling me.

“Oh, no,” she whines, taking a long sip from her iced coffee and rattling the ice in her cup as she stares at the new guy at the front desk. “You’re going to have to find a new toy to fawn over. Eden is gorgeous, Mateo. Super sweet too. But you know what I like most about her?”

I sigh. “I can’t imagine.”

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