His eyes dropped to my breasts and he actually ran his tongue over his lips like I'd think that was sexy. Ew. Gonna. Puke.
"Bring as many as you want. Starts at nine." He slipped his hand to my waist, his finger stroking my skin. "You remember the way to my house, right?"
I managed not to shudder at his touch, then smiled and reached for my ice cream when the guy behind the counter called it out. "Sure. I'll see you then."
He quirked an eyebrow at me. "I'll make it a night you won't forget."
"I'll bet." I gave him a little finger wave and walked out. How disgusting and phony and lecherous could one guy be? Maybe it was him dumping me on social media that had given me clarity or maybe it was that I'd learned the difference between a guy who wasn't worthy and one who was.
The second I climbed into my car, I called my friends Shelby and Brooklyn and told them about Tristan and the party. Brooklyn said she couldn't make it, but Shelby said she could.
Shelby lived in my old neighborhood and was still a good friend. Her family had more money than they'd be able to spend in a thousand years but Shelby had never been stuck up. I'd hurt her feelings by pulling away from her when my family drama unfolded but I'd thought like my other friends that she'd want to keep her distance. After a month, I'd called her and received an earful for thinking she was a fair-weather friend. I'd apologized, then we'd both cried, and downed a few beers at her house when her parents had left for some society function. Our friendship had been fine ever since.
She squealed in my ear. "This is perfect. I know the girl Tristan has been dating. They've been seeing each other about a year. While she's not my favorite person, she doesn't deserve his planning to sneak around with you."
"I don't know what I ever saw in him." I eased the car onto the freeway.
"It's not your fault. He talks a good game and he fooled you. Are you bringing Ryan to the party? You totally should. Tristan will shit."
"I don't know. I don't think Tristan's party is Ryan's kind of scene."
"Probably not, but you're his scene. He'll go for you," Shelby said.
Would he? I gave myself a mental shake. I didn't want to or need to spin castles in the air when it came to Ryan. But to hang out together? Ryan would probably go for that. "I'll mention it to him."
"You do that. I'm going to make sure the girl Tristan is dating shows up late to the party and catches him acting like the sleaze he is. We'll let the shit hit the fan." She gave an evil laugh that made me laugh too.
"As long as it doesn't hit us," I said.
She laughed again. "Like Ryan would ever let that happen. For someone who's just a friend, he's very protective of you."
"Will you stop. It's not like that. I need to go. I'll see you at my place later." After I hung up, I took the exit leading toward the garage where Ryan worked. I could have gone straight home and called him and I should have. What Ryan and I had was a good friendship with a hookup on the horizon. Based on the satisfied expressions on the faces of the girls I'd seen him with, it would probably be an amazing hookup, a once in a lifetime kind that a girl never forgot. I wouldn't forget either, but I'd put it behind me afterwards. I had to. My life was going to fork away from his. I planned to sleep with Ryan and then leave for college not long after that.
A feeling of unease grew and settled in the pit of my stomach as images of Ryan flashed in my mind. Was I sure that I could handle my plan of walking away when the time came?
RYAN
My half day came and went and at five o'clock, I was still at Abraham's garage, elbow deep in parts and grease. During the week, Cooper was here part time along with Ryker and Zane full time, all guys who at one point had lived in Mama Leena's house. I'd known all three before then. We'd run the streets together as angry little shits lashing out at the world.
The garage was an older brick building, hulking on a corner lot, hopeless looking when Abraham bought it ten years ago. He'd extended the garage by adding two extra bays, repaved the parking lot and added lights around the perimeter.
The heating in the building sucked so in the winter, when the snow and ice coated the ground, even in long underwear, you'd freeze your junk off. In the summer, especially once the temperatures hit the mid 80s, the bricks absorbed the sun so you'd end up with your balls practically sunburned and dripping sweat. The building had bad acoustics and despite how many times Abraham cleaned it, the bathroom always smelled like vomit and piss. I wouldn't rather be anywhere but here.
A 1986 Ford Bronco owner had shown up two hours ago complaining the truck idled rough and didn't want to start. Abraham rubbed his goatee and looked at me. His dark eyes and ebony skin gleamed in the bright overhead lighting. He searched the pocket of his coveralls for his tobacco and sent me a sly grin. "What do you think?"
I knew he was testing me. Abraham had degrees in automotive training as long as my leg, but he'd said time and again that book learning is a different animal than hands on knowledge. It was one of the reasons he'd hired me. I didn't have the book learning, but I'd worked on cars since I was seven years old when I'd first been taught how to hot-wire them.
"I think it's a burnt valve."
After we'd torn it down and I proved it was a burnt valve, Abraham laughed, spit a stream of tobacco into a can and said, "Damn, boy. You're the only kid I know that can listen to the sound an engine makes and have an idea about what's going on. That's a gift."
A gift I intended to use to open up my own garage one day. It was also the reason I had no intention of going to any of the colleges Mama Leena had picked out for me to study business management. All I wanted to do was be around cars.
"You clean and prep for tomorrow. Don't forget to lock up," Abraham said. He left at five fifteen five days a week. Even if he was right in the middle of something, he'd stop, clean his hands, and walk off. I'd asked him once why he didn't just finish a job that would only have taken him another half hour at most and he'd said, "You have to own the job, son, or it'll own you."
He left carrying the day's deposit and I started cleaning the tools and putting them back where they belonged. Easiest way to piss Abraham off was to treat his tools poorly.
I knelt in front of the Bronco to pick up a torque wrench I dropped, heard the soft growl of an engine, and stood up fast. Though the garage was in a fairly decent area, people were always the surprise element. You never knew about them.
Tana parked her Honda and walked across the oil stained concrete. For someone who used to have more money than I could imagine, she never acted like a once-rich girl even though she looked like she still belonged in that circle. Her hips swayed gently in a west to east movement. She had on a pair of old jeans with a scarf as a belt and a sleeveless blue vest over something lacy that was cut so low I could see plenty of cleavage and it interested me a lot more than I had the right to be.
I picked up a rag and started wiping off the wrench, trying to stop thinking with my dick. "What's up?"
She huffed out a breath that ended in a small laugh. "I headed this way, then changed my mind and went home, then drove back here."
"Are you okay?" I imagined shit had started up with her dad again. Though I'd never met the man, I despised him. She'd glossed over some of it, but Tana had told me how her father used to put her down, telling her she was worthless, and that going to college would be a waste of time for her because she was too stupid to handle it. When she swallowed and tore her gaze away from mine, I said, "Tana, tell me what's going on."
"I um...wanted to show you this." She ducked her head and yanked open her purse. The force she used caused the contents to fly upward and crash to the floor. Dropping to her knees, she shoved things back in and I wondered why she acted so nervous. Then I saw the prescription bag and it didn't take a genius to put two and two together.
This was exactly the reason why I had doubts about getting involved with Tana. She was my best friend. The light to my darkness. With the possibility of sex in the picture, all of a sudden our friendship took a new, awkward turn. If it was this bad now, how much worse would it get after we'd seen each other naked? After I'd felt her come apart under me? I savagely squashed the thought when my dick started to flagpole to attention.
She stood up, opened the prescription bag, and held out a round container. "The pills. I wanted you to know."
I clenched my teeth together, then exhaled when visions of the two of us naked, sweaty, and driving each other crazy wouldn't stop flashing in my mind. "Give me a time frame."