Worst part? Fucker’s actually nice. Like, there isn’t a crooked bone in his body, and I don’t mean that in the bruised and battered sense. He’s the real deal, and he seems smart too. I get why Hannah’s attracted to him. He’s all the things I could never be. He was talking about some gallery opening or some shit, and I guess Hannah’s work is going to be shown. Her mom shut that conversation down, which pissed me off. Hannah and I have our problems, and believe me, they run deep as hell. But her mom has never shown support for her passion. The fact Hannah seems to be succeeding at it and her mom still refuses to give it the time and appreciation it deserves? That isn’t right.
“Good thing my dad went out fishing this morning. He cannot stand the guy. He constantly rips on the dude’s name, messing it up on purpose.” Tommy signals me to turn over the engine on the Supra. It fires up and Tommy holds a thumb up before I turn it off and yank out the key.
“Gasket crisis averted. I don’t think the burn-off messed anything up, other than that hose we replaced.” Tommy drops the hood and tosses me a towel. We wipe our hands clean and I move to the outdoor fridge to grab each of us a beer.
“I mean, it’s five o’clock somewhere, right?” he says as I toss it to him. It’s not quite eleven here. Maybe it’s a little early, but I’ve had a full damn day. I drove all night and barely slept.
“What do you think of him. Jorge?” Tommy and I haven’t had this conversation since we first discovered Hannah was living with the guy, and pregnant. To be fair, Tommy’s the one who found out and he couldn’t wait to tell me. He says he wanted someone to be pissed off about it with, but I think there’s a part of him that still hates I ever dated his sister, and this is his big “I told you so” moment.
“I mean, well, for starters, the dude is tall.” Tommy pops the cap from his beer on the edge of the workbench, and it fizzes from the top. He holds it to his lips, slurping up the spillage.
“Very astute observation. Astounding detective work, Thomas. He is, in fact, tall.” I roll my eyes and pull my key ring out to rip the cap off my beer. I gulp down a quarter of it and wish for a fast buzz that will kill the stress of my morning.
“Ha ha, very funny. I don’t know, man. What am I supposed to think of him? He knocked up my sister and they have a family together. Super awesome. Yay. I guess.” His lackluster tone is satisfying even if I can’t stand his words.
“So you’re cool with the guy?” I’m not being fair. It’s not as if Tommy has a choice. He never has when it comes to his sister. Hannah does what Hannah wants, and if she wants to be with some man-bun artsy dude who wears tan pants with leather flip flops, then so be it.
Tommy paces around the Supra, admiring what we’ve done to it. We gave it a new wrap—black with yellow stripes. I wanted to paint a bee on the back and write “Stings like a” above it, but I’m shit at art. Too bad I don’t know anyone I could ask—ha ha.
“Am I cool with him? I guess. As cool as I am about stopping at the store to pick up bread and milk. I’m . . . indifferent, I guess? I wish I could see my niece more because she seems cute, and I miss being close to my sister.”
“That’s my fault,” I insert.
“Nah, it’s just . . . what it is.” That’s the same answer Tommy always gives when I apologize for letting things get so far with Alex. We’ve been over this a dozen times, and even though he says he’s as responsible as I am, I know it’s bullshit. I was the one with the idea and the one blinded to the pitfalls. Tommy was trying to make it work for me. He’s the one who came up with the idea of turning Alex in. He wanted to do right. I wanted to get my way and bend the rules.
“She seem happy to you?” I squint at him, not sure what answer I want. All he does is shrug.
I can’t quit thinking about what I heard when Hannah ran into me this morning. The thought of her sleeping with that guy makes my blood boil. I’ve gotten by because I don’t really see her, and her family is disciplined about keeping our conversations Hannah-free. I dove into my work—into making this track something special and into perfecting my racing, even if I’m never allowed to fucking win.
“You know what you need? You need to get laid!” Tommy leaps up on one of the workbenches and grabs his crotch. It’s a ridiculous sight because he’s never been that guy. I mean, yeah, he’s never had a problem hooking up, and Bailey, for whatever reason, loves him something stupid. But loud and flashy sex god is not his brand. He’s more of a quiet, sneaks up on you kinda guy, even when he’s drunk.
“Well, Chelsea is coming by and we’re going out, so who knows.” I say it mostly to get him off my back. Chelsea Taylor is one of our reps, and yeah, she and I have fooled around and gotten a little crazy at Minder Binders during happy hour. I maybe dared her to show me her tits and she maybe shoved them in my face and I maybe didn’t mind all that much. But that shit? It’s temporary. She’s fresher off her breakup than I am.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Tommy shouts again, grabbing his crotch.
“What’s that?”
My beer bottle suctions from my lips as my eyes veer to my periphery and Tommy leaps down from his perch. I’d laugh if I weren’t dreading the next thirty seconds of conversation. Hannah could come check out the garage any day, and she picks now. Right now.
“Talking about our rep getting us a deal is all,” I say, shaking my head. I meet Tommy’s gaze and he spits out a laugh.
“Yeah, some deal. Real big deal,” he jokes.
I flip him off then apologize to his sister. That’s not how I want to handle this awkwardness between us, by bragging about hot chicks who are into me when we’re both drunk.
“I see. How very mature,” Hannah says. She holds her stare on me a little longer than she does her brother, and it makes me regret those thoughts I just had. She’s making it damn hard to be the better person.
“It is. What’s up?” I clear my throat and set my beer down as I stand and circle her.
“I’m gonna—” Tommy nods his head to the right, to our back offices, where I guess he’ll go play video games because he sure as shit isn’t going in there to work. He just wants to vacate this situation.
“Yeah, okay. Hannah, you here for a tour?” I raise a brow and busy myself putting my ratchet set back into the right slots. I hate that I don’t know how to talk to her anymore. It used to be so easy, but now it’s literally like dragging nails over shag carpet. I’m not sure whether I should be hostile or cold or curt or whatever the fuck acquaintances are who have a history like ours.
“My mom asked me to bring this over. Something about the sponsorship for the hike or whatever. I’ll drop it in the office and go. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She’s hurrying things now because I made her feel unwanted, and dammit, my chest burns with guilt.
“No, it’s fine. I got it. She needs me to sign some checks.”
Our fingertips barely touch on the exchange, something we both do on purpose. At least, I do. I’m always pushing boundaries, and I have a history of crossing them with this girl. I don’t know why I can’t stop. I guess I was hoping to feel nothing when our hands met. Instead, I felt everything.