She never would have second guessed this.
But now I see it; Graham would have been mad she did something unsanctioned. He’d get mad and make her pay for her insubordination. He’d break her heart and mind, and she’d think over her mistakes for the rest of her life.
She wouldn’t see it for what it is; a manipulating prick on a power trip. Instead, she’d wonder that maybe her life would be better, easier, happier if she just did as she was told.
“No, Laine.” I step forward until our toes touch. I pull her shaking hands between mine and squeeze until they stop. “I’m not mad. I promise.” A single tear slides over her cheek, breaking my heart. “I’m happy you finished it. But more than that, I’m happy you’re happy.”
“Are you sure? Because I could go back and pull a few things out. I should’ve been more thoughtful. The least I could do is save the last piece for you, to let you turn the engine over. That should’ve been your job.”
“No.” I twine our fingers together and watch her hair flutter in the breeze. “I’m not mad, I promise. I wanna hear the engine turn over, but only if you’re here with me. I wanna see you smile, because that’s the only reason I brought the damn thing here. That car was always for you.”
Her bottom lip wobbles. “For me?”
“Yes. You think I have time to rebuild a whole fuckin’ classic on my own? No. That car was in the right place at the right time. I saw it, thought of you, thought of the time you tore Luc’s bike apart, and now here we are.”
“You brought it home like a therapy thing for me?”
“I brought it home because I knew you’d enjoy playing around with it. I wanted to help you, to give you something else to think about. A tangible goal to achieve. And…” I let out a long sigh. “And an excuse to visit each day so we could hang out.”
Her lips quiver. “You don’t need an excuse to visit me. You just gotta knock on the door and shout‘I’m here, bitches. Where’s the pizza?’”
I laugh. “If I ever walk in the door, call you a bitch and demand pizza, you’d kick my ass. And not before I kicked my own.”
“You don’t need an excuse, Ang.” She moves her fingers in mine, twisting them, reminding me how delicate and small her hands are. “We’re family. You’re my friend. Just text, any time, and I’ll reply.”
I’m so in love with her, and she thinks I’m family. A friend.
Yeah, my chest still aches.
“Okay.” Stepping back before she can break me again, I turn back toward the garage. “What thing came in the mail? What did you wanna show me?”
“Oh!” Back to the excited girl from five minutes ago, she spins and drags me toward the car. “So, you already bought one of these; a new one. But I found this on a second-hand online store and I really,reallywanted it.” Her shoulder blades pop as she pulls me along. She peeks back and meets my eyes. “I say I got it for you, but really, I still intend to buy this car, so it’s actually for me.” Releasing my hand, she skips toward the fridge and opens a small box that sits on top.
Pulling out bubble wrap and tissue paper, she grins at whatever she’s got.
Pulling it out, she cradles the damn thing in her arms and walks toward me. “Just like the manual you were fleeced on, this is original. And it works.”
“An odometer?” I take it from her and wipe a thumb across the front. “How’d you find it?”
She shrugs. “I ran out of Brooklyn 99 reruns, so I was cruising online auto places.”
“As you do.”
She snickers. “All the cool kids are doing it. I found it, I closed one eye and looked at the price; a little bit more than ten bucks, but here we are. It arrived this morning, but I didn’t put it in yet, since it’s technically your car and I already took over.”
I laugh. “You can put it in if you want. Need help?”
Her face splits into a large grin. “I got it, but don’t leave, I wanna hang out.” Taking the odometer, she doesn’t notice the way her fingertips brush over my chest. She doesn’t notice the way her long hair fans over my hands when she excitedly turns away.
She doesn’t notice the way my heart beats faster when she’s near.
Oblivious, she rushes to the freestanding, ten drawer toolbox and snaps it open to the screwdrivers. She knows where everything is, and it does my heart good that she puts it all back in its rightful place.
There may or may not have been beatdowns in my garage because the apprentices throw my tools around and never put them away properly.
“So, summer break’s coming.” She shuffles me aside to get inside the car. “Are you excited?”
“It doesn’t make much of a difference in my life. I work year-round, but it gets hot as fuck in that garage in the middle of summer.”