“What else would there be?”
“Most guys would ask to come in at least a few times before they leave.”
“I’m not most guys, Arlo. I saved you twice, something no one else did, and I’m leaving you at home, knowing you’re safe, without wanting anything else in return. Give me your phone.”
Her eyes widen. “Why?”
“I want to put my number in it in case you need to call me tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she whispers, reaching into her purse and retrieving her phone, unlocking it, and then handing it to me.
I dial my number, letting my phone ring once before hanging up and saving myself in her contacts. “Or call me whenever.”
“If I order a car service, I’ll call you and let you know.”
“No, babe. Don’t do that. It’s a waste of money. I live close, and I want to go to Mammoth’s shop with you to pick it up. The number is for any other time you need to call me—for save number three or anything else.”
“Oh,” she says, her mouth staying in an O after the words finish coming from her lips. “Thanks.” She finally smiles. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” I tell her, staying right where I am, straddling my bike in her driveway.
She looks over her shoulder at the house and then back to me. “You can go now.”
I dip my chin and shake my head. The woman is bossy and skittish. “I know, but I’m going to wait until you’re inside, and then I’ll hit it.”
She lifts her hand to her lips, chewing on her nail again, staring at me. “Do you want to come in for a drink?”
I raise my eyebrows.
“I really mean a drink, though, and not sex.”
“Wasn’t looking to get laid, babe.”
She drops her hand, and her lips flatten. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” I tell her. “Never entered my mind.”
Her lips turn down at the sides. “Oh, well…”
“I mean, it entered my mind, but I’m a gentleman. I’m a man, but not a creep. Although I appreciate the offer, I’m going to head home, and I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Her frown disappears, and she stands a little straighter. “You sure?”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
She lifts her hand and waves, her feet still stuck to the same spot.
I lift my chin toward her house. “Go, babe. I told you I’m not leaving until you’re inside, and I’m not leaving until you’re inside.”
“Night,” she says softly.
“Night.”
She moves toward the door, stopping on her front porch to unlock the door, but before she goes inside, she glances back and smiles.
The woman is drop-dead gorgeous. Devastatingly beautiful, in fact. Her self-confidence is in the toilet, and she reminds me of a scared mouse, thinking everything and everyone is out to get her.
I wave back before firing up the bike but staying put, giving her a chin lift. “Inside!” I yell over the engine.
She rolls her eyes but does as I say, disappearing inside. The lights in the house flip on, and I see her dark silhouette move around the room.
I don’t linger, taking off and heading toward home instead of heading to Victoria’s. There’s no doubt she’d give me attitude for being late, and I’m not about to be bitched out by a woman who isn’t even mine. The pussy isn’t worth it tonight.
I’m in my driveway ten minutes later, and when I reach for my phone in my pocket, there’s a message waiting.
Arlo: Thanks for the save again tonight. Please don’t feel like you need to take me tomorrow. I’ll figure something out. You’ve already done enough.
I shake my head, lifting my eyes toward the dark sky and sighing before shooting her back a message to set her straight.
Me: Babe, last time I’m saying it…stop. I’ll be there at 11:30 to pick you up. End of discussion.
I barely make it to the door before there’s a return message.
Arlo: Okay. Okay. I don’t know what to say.
Me: You already said enough. We’re good.
Arlo: Why are you so nice?
Me: Aren’t most people nice?
Arlo: I guess I know the wrong people.
I stare at the screen, wondering if I want to know and if she wants to tell me. It’s really none of my business, and unless she’s offering the information, I’m not asking.
Me: You do. Night, Arlo. See you tomorrow.
Arlo: Night.
I don’t even have a beer in my hand when the messages start rolling in.
Victoria: You’re an asshole.
I can’t argue with her, and I don’t want to. She wants to engage because to Victoria, any attention is good attention. I silence her texts, wanting to leave her in the past instead of letting her invade my future.
Tamara: Mello met a chick.
Gigi: What?
Lily: Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Who?
Rebel: For real?
Jo: Ooooh. This is going to get good.
I grunt, collapsing into my favorite chair, beer between my legs, watching their nonsense in our group chat fill my screen.
Mammoth: Princess, don’t start bullshit where there isn’t any bullshit.
Tamara: You fixing her car?
Mammoth: Yes.
Tamara: …
Me: She’s no one to me. She was broken down, and I helped. What was I supposed to do?
Gigi: Hmmm. Solid point.
Lily: True.
Rebel: Is she pretty?
Me: What’s that matter?
Jo: That’s a yes!
Tamara: It’s so a yes.
Me: It’s not a yes. I’m asking why it matters.
Gigi: Well, would you help someone who wasn’t pretty?
Me: I’d help anyone. Looks don’t matter when there’s a person in need.
Rebel: Mmm-hmm.
Gigi: You seeing her again?
Me: I’m giving her a ride to the shop tomorrow.
Tamara: I’ll make sure I’m in the office tomorrow.
Gigi: I think we should all go.
Me: No. Absolutely not. You guys need to stop. She’s a stranger, and I’m never going to see her again.
Rebel: She’s ugly, then.
Me: No, she’s not, but she’s not my type.
Lily: You have a type besides ready, willing, and able?
Pike: Why are you ladies ragging on him for helping someone? If he says he’s not going to see her again, he’s not going to see her again.
Jett: Does he see any of them again?
Rocco: Good point, Jett.
Me: You’re all assholes.
Nick: Birds of a feather.
Me: Listen, she’s a nice girl. She’s the type to catch feelings, and she doesn’t need or want a guy like me in her life.
Tamara: Ding. Ding. Ding. She’s hot.
Lily: Yep. 100%.
Gigi: Snap.
Rebel: Mello’s never going to settle down.
Rocco: Never say never, babe. Look at me. I’ve never been happier, but that was because I saw you again.
Rebel: I think a trip to the shop is in order for all of us tomorrow.
Me: Don’t you dare.
Gigi: How are you going to stop us?
Me: Someone has to run Inked.
Gigi: Tomorrow’s our late day. We don’t open until two, so there’s plenty of time to go to the shop and make it to Inked to prep.
Me: You’re ridiculous.