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My head whips in her direction and I nearly drive off the damn road. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“There’s a picture of us online from the coffee shop,” she says, her face going beet red.

“What’s so bad about that?”

“Bennett,” she says my name like I’m the stupidest fucking person she’s ever encountered. “The. Coffee. Shop.”

“Oh, fuck,” I hiss between my teeth. “What does it say? It’s not us in the bathroom, right?”

“No, of course not, it’s just us sitting at the table laughing about something. Let me read the article. Give me a minute.”

I clench my teeth and continue to drive, when what I really want to do is pull over and snatch the phone from her hand so I can read it myself. I’ll be beyond pissed if somehow word got out about us having sex in the bathroom. I mean, I’ve done plenty of crazy shit before but I’ve never been concerned about it coming back on someone I care about—me, I can handle it, but Grace shouldn’t have to.

After the longest minute of my life, she breathes out a sigh of relief. “The article is just talking about you coming home for the holidays and they speculate about when you’re going to return to the team. It sounds like they think you and Coach Matthews have been planning some big return, like a publicity stunt or something.”

I snort. “Yeah,” I begin, “because everyone thinks he’s a fucking god and not a complete dickwad.”

Grace reaches over and rubs my arm, trying to offer me a small amount of comfort. I hate to tell her, but when it comes to Matthews nothing makes me feel better.

Grace puts her phone in her purse and says, “I’m just glad to know that no one knows about the bathroom.”

“No one but us,” I remind her with a wink.

She blushes and looks out the window. I love that a part of Grace is so shy, but she still has a wild side.

“Is this it?” I ask, pointing ahead of us.

“Yeah, that’s the shop.” She smiles.

As we draw closer, I can see Wentworth Wheels spelled out across the front.

“This is the shop,” she says. “Dean lives in the apartment upstairs.”

Dean doesn’t say much to me. Whenever he’s around, he looks at me with a shrewd eye like he’s waiting for me to mess up. I guess I can’t blame the guy. I mean, I’m protective of Sabrina, but it still sucks. Lincoln, on the other hand, has warmed to me. Even though he’s younger than me, I like the kid. He’s a good athlete and has a wicked sense of humor.

I park the car and follow Grace to the entrance.

“Dad’s probably in his office,” she says.

“Do you think we should’ve brought him lunch or something?” I ask.

Grace shakes her head. “Trust me, he’s probably already eating.”

There are several mechanics working beneath the hoods of various cars, and when they hear us they look up.

“Hey, Grace,” one says with a lop-sided smile.

“Hey, Levi.” She waves at him.

“Who’s that?” I hiss. I’m not jealous. Nope. I’m not.

She laughs and swats my stomach. “Are you seriously jealous because I waved at a guy? Mr. Stick-My-Dick-In-Anything-That-Walks.”

I snort. “Clever, and no, I’m not jealous.” She eyes me. “Okay, maybe a little bit, but … I’m new at this whole love thing. It’s going to take me some time.” I touch my fingers to her cheek.

I can tell my words please her, even though she tries to act like they don’t. “Anyway,” she says, stepping away from my touch, “that’s Levi. He’s the son of my mom and dad’s best friends.”

“Wait.” I grin. “Your mom and dad got married and so did their best friends?”


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