I reached the house and went inside. There was a lot of nostalgia and long-forgotten emotions in this house, even though I had only lived here for a few months after my parents died. But those few months were enough to change something inside of me forever.
Why can’t I shake this feeling? Why can’t I get Erica out of my head?
For the past five years, she had lingered in the back of my head. The girl I always wanted but couldn’t have. The longer I tried to ignore her, the greater the feeling became until finally I couldn’t take it anymore.
Part of me wondered if I was building her up too much in my head. Everything was perfect in a man’s imagination, but the real world was messier. You didn’t see the cracks in a person until you looked real close.
But I had been back for a week, and I didn’t see any cracks in Erica. She wasperfectin every way—intellectually, emotionally, physically. God, she was physically perfect, long legs and silky blonde hair and lips that pursed with a hidden smile when she was trying not to laugh.
After a week living here, I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anything in my life.
And itterrifiedme.
I went into the garage and pulled the cover off the Mustang. Cars had always been my escape. Machinery was simple. It had a purpose. Engines converted chemical energy into mechanical energy. Transmissions transferred that energy into motion. If a part was broken, it was relatively easy to diagnose and fix.
People were a lot tougher. There was so much guessing involved. Mainly, I wondered if Erica still had feelings for me. Five years was a long time, and any crush she might have had on me had probably faded.
Or maybe it had grown stronger, like my feelings for her.
She’s a grown woman now,I thought while replacing a rusted bolt underneath the transmission.She’s probably gotten over me. She only liked me because I was her brother’s best friend. I was older, and I was around.
I heard Erica’s car pull into the driveway, and then the front door opened and closed. Her footsteps moved through the house in that rushed, don’t-have-time-for-a-stroll pace that Erica had always had.
“I’m in here,” I called.
She appeared in the doorway to the garage, arms crossed under her breasts and a scowl on her face.
“How bad did I fuck things up?” I asked. “If I got you in trouble…”
Her scowl deepened, and goddamn it made her look even more beautiful. “My boss is pissed, but he didn’t fire me. It helped that Lizzy and the other servers vouched for how much of a dick Ralph is. He’s been getting more and more rude with them lately.”
My fist tightened at my side. “I could tell he was that kind of guy. I wish I had done more to that piece of shit…”
“Relax,” she said. “All he did was make a dumb joke about how much he likes head.”
“He touched you,” I growled. “I saw the look on your face when he kissed your hand. You were repulsed.”
Erica let out a long sigh. “I’m a bartender. I’ve had worse nights.”
“You shouldn’t,” I insisted. “Someone like you shouldn’t have to deal with assholes, politely smiling at their harassment. You deserve so much more than that, Erica.”
I knew I was rambling. Telling her too much. My mouth had already gotten me into trouble tonight, and I didn’t want to say something else I couldn’t take back.
“I agree,” she said. “Which is why I’m focusing on gettingYours Forever Gemstonesup and running. But it might be months before we turn a profit, and even longer before I can pay myself. I still have to keep my current job until then.”
I wiped the grease off my hands with a rag and tossed it on the workbench. “I’m sorry, Erica. I fucked up. It won’t happen again.”
She smiled at me. “It’s okay. It was kind of sweet what you did. Don’t get me wrong—I don’t want you to do that again. But it’s nice to be reminded that I don’t have to take every customer’s shit.”
That smile,I thought while looking at her.That damn smile makes every ache and bruise worth it.
Erica’s face suddenly twisted into a concerned frown. “Your arm is bleeding.”
I looked at my left arm, then my right. There was a one-inch-long gash on my bicep, leaving a trickle of blood down to my elbow. I wiped at it with my hand, but it had already dried.
“It’s fine.”
She laughed and went inside. I stared at the empty doorway and wondered if our conversation was over. I wanted to hang out with her, to talk more about her day and the business. I had been enjoying our evenings together when she got home from work, when the world was dark and quiet and the two of us could catch up.