Page 23 of Faking It With the Small-Town Bad Boy

the stray drops of oil seep down my leg and settle against my shoe

and sock. “I’m a little busy right now.”

“I can see that,” he hums, wearing a simple, slick suit with his hands

pressed into his pockets. He looks like he’s running for office, no

doubt a characteristic he’s adopted from his girlfriend. When we

were together, he was fixated on fixing cars with my father. Now that

he has Farrah, I’m sure he’s happily kissing up to the governor’s close

friends.

Ryan is the type of man to adopt the personality and traits of the

person he’s with because he’s too unoriginal and dense to have any

sense of personality for himself. He’s a mirror—shattered and

missing some pieces, but a mirror nonetheless.

“You look good, ladybug,” he purrs. “Sorry, it’s taken me so long to

come out here. I’ve been a little busy.”

“It’s okay. I was enjoying the absence.”

He cocks half of his lips upright into a slim smile. “Very funny.

Listen, I came here to talk about something serious with you, okay?”

“Let’s hear it then. I have to get back to work.”

“Well, I was hoping we could have this talk somewhere more suitable

for the seriousness of—”

“Spit it out, Ryan. I have fourteen orders backed up in the shop, and I

can’t really start a tea kettle and throw some cookies in the oven for

you to talk.”

“Why do you have to be so harsh with me?”

“If you have to ask that question, then you don’t deserve the reply.”

He nods, dismissing my reference to our long history. He pulls up the

stool from the desk nearby and sits down while I lean on my classic

project. My head is already pulling towards everything this car needs,

what work I have left to do, and it’s so much pressure I hardly hear

Ryan say anything at all.

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