Once the coast is clear, I leave the office and wander slowly around the garage. Everything is so familiar. When I was a child, I used to love coming here to watch my dad work on cars. When he didn’t have anyone to look after me, he would bring me in and let me play in the office and watch him through the windows. As I got older, he let me help him and pass him tools, explaining to me everything he was doing. It was never boring, and I would ask him questions and listen to every little thing he told me.
Max had certainly done a good job of keeping things running, even before my dad went into the hospital. And we’re back to Max again. Even though Beth’s theory is a little too close to the truth, it isn’t a good idea for us to date. We can barely stand each other most of the time. How the hell would I get through a whole evening with him without wanting to knee him in the balls?
Chapter Eleven
A black ‘09 Camaro idles in the lot, and the growl of the engine attracts my attention. I wander into the bright sunshine to see if I can help, and as much as I like the first and second-generation models, I wouldn’t say no to one of these. My eyes run over the bodywork in much the same way I would look a hot guy up and down, appreciating the curves and tight lines.
“Hi. It’s Leigh, right?” A guy steps out of the driver’s side while I continue to drool open-mouthed over his car.
“Yeah.” I walk over, still distracted, and offer him my hand. When his warm palm meets mine, I finally look up. He looks vaguely familiar. I’m sure he was at the quarter mile a few nights ago.
“I’m Kyle. I was racing the other night.”
“Oh right¸ I thought I’d seen you before. What can I help you with?” I take a step back and focus my attention on him instead of his car. Possibly a year younger than me with light brown hair that’s a little too long on top so it flops into his very blue eyes. He’s cute. Not dampen-your-panties gorgeous, like certain other people that I should not even be holding up as a comparison, but in a fun, easy-going way.
“She’s pulling to the left on take off. Wondered if Aaron or Max could have a look?”
“I can have a look for you,” I offer and watch how his eyebrows climb higher in surprise. This is a reaction I’m used to. “I do know what I’m talking about, you know.” And I wink at him and his smile widens. There is something seriously wrong with me. I am so not that girl, the one who flirts and winks at random guys who I cross paths with.
“Sure. That would be great.”
I locate a creeper so I can roll under to have a look. I pull the elastic band off my wrist and tie my hair back in a quick ponytail. Pushing under the car, I take a look around.
“I can see what the problem is,” I shout from under the car. There is a scuffling sound, and I peer down my body to see him kneeling on the ground and looking under the car. “The steering’s out of alignment, but I’d like to check the brakes, too.”
“Can you fix it?” he asks in all seriousness, and I can’t help my small burst of laughter.
“Can I fix it? You’re kidding, right?” I slide out from under the car and look up at him, shielding my eyes from the bright sun. “Of course, I can fix it, but so can Aaron or Max.” I hold out my hand, and he takes it in his firm grasp to help me stand. I dust off my jeans.
“Pop the hood,” I order gently. “There’s something else I want to check.” He jogs around to the driver’s side and ducks inside. The hood pops, and I prop it up and lean over the engine. Kyle rounds the hood and perches on the edge. He seems a little nervous at having a female look over his car, and he watches me closely.
An engine sounds behind me, and I don’t need to turn around to know that Max is back from lunch. The growl of his GTO is a dead giveaway. Taking a peek over my shoulder, I see that he’s not alone either. My stomach gives an unpleasant twist when I see a blonde climb out of the passenger side and round the hood to stand in front of Max. Her head tilts upward, looking adoringly into his face. Does that kind of walk-on-water adoration not get boring after a while? Her arms wrap around his waist and although his hands rest on her shoulders, it looks like he’s trying to get some distance. I don’t know what she’s saying, but whatever it is, she doesn’t have his full attention; he’s too busy glaring at me with a possessive glint in his eye. Distracted, he nods at the girl and sends her on her way, and I turn back to the Camaro.
“What’s kickin’ chicken?” Max shouts over, and I twist to see him stalking over to us, his gaze darting back and forth between Kyle and me.