My chest hitched as he strolled away. His hands were full of tools, heading out to the garage. I could feel my nipples harden with the flush he could so easily draw onto my cheeks. Damn him. He had no right. Anger weaved up my spine, and I marched after him.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I barreled into the garage, emotion taking over, not allowing my brain to step in.
He curved slightly, dropping his tools on the machine. “Excuse me?”
“You…” I pointed, moving closer. “You are a nineteen-year-old kid. You have no right to talk to me like that,” I shouted. “It’s inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” He whipped to me, a fire lighting his dark eyes.
“Yes,” I barked. “You go to school with my niece. You are in high school! I am a thirty-year-old woman.”
He growled, his feet stepping to me, making me backpedal.
“You don’t think I know that?” He leaned closer, his frame brushing against mine. His gaze dropped to my mouth, a nerve in his jaw convulsing, as if he was trying to hold himself back. Air stopped in my lungs, my eyes going to his, unable to stop the reaction, noticing how full his bottom lip was. How it might feel sinking my teeth down on it, to feel his mouth against mine.
Tension congested the air, our breaths intermingling, our bodies almost touching. We teetered on a thin blade. A precipice that warned of death if you leaped. I couldn’t deny how much I wanted to let the blade cut me. Life pumping through my veins as we bled out. The pure blissful high before we hit bottom.
His gaze went back and forth between my eyes, his dark gaze hungry. Violent. Promising to completely wreck my world. And I wanted him to.
Beep! Beep!
A car horn blared from my driveway, making me jolt, shattering the moment into dust. Clarity of what I was about to do, the line I about jumped over, slammed into me with horror.
Oh. My. God.
“What are you doing?” Pushing him, I scrambled away, turning my shame into fury, directing it at him. “This is so beyond inappropriate.” I gathered myself near the door, using my authoritative tone. “You are a child.” The word was like a whip. Purposefully cruel, it curled off my tongue, wanting to mark him, to hurt him. It wasn’t at all true, but it worked. He stepped back defensively, his chest rising. “And though I appreciate what you have done here.” My throat condensed, struggling with the last bit. “It is better if you don’t come back.”
Not letting him speak, I took off, heading back into my house and out the front door, where the Uber driver waited for me. Shaking, I wanted to burst into tears because no matter what my head said, my heart was calling me back to that garage.
Chapter 16
Mason
Sliding myself out from under the GTO, my hands greasy and filthy, I stood up, grabbing a cloth to wipe them off. The garage door was open, letting the cool weather in. A hazy sun was already heading for the horizon.
The car was coming along faster than I thought because every moment I wasn’t at school or helping around the house, I was here. The desperation to keep my mind occupied at all times was hitting obsessive levels.
On the outside, I acted as if everything was fine, while inside my brain, I was going insane. My mind never letting up on the moment in the garage with Emery. Seeing her lips part, knowing without a doubt she felt the same thing I did. She tried to hide it, but desire heated her body, wrapping around my dick like she owned it. I was about to kiss her before the asshole driver interrupted us. I couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened if he hadn’t. Would she have kissed me back?
It was making me crazy. And the month and a half since that night hadn’t lessened the need for her. If anything, I felt it grow stronger, almost as if I could hear her calling to me.
The next day after she kicked me out, I saw a delivery truck with a brand-new washer and dryer at her house, making her point very clear to either herself or me. I had no excuse to show up again.
“Mason?” My grandma opened the door to the garage, carrying something in her palm, her hair puffy and styled, a sign she had been to the hairdresser today. Grace James was all of five foot two, but she had the love and determination of a giant. She was the rock of this family, and watching her struggle to get down the steps sent fear and sadness to my heart.
“I got you.” I went to her, helping her down the three steps.
“Thank you.” She patted my arm. “I saw you hadn’t taken these yet.” She held my hand, placing vitamins and other horse-size pills in my palm.
Nodding, I flung them into my mouth, grabbing the water bottle I had on the bench and chugging them down. “Thanks, I guess I forgot.”
“You can’t forget, Mason.” She frowned at me, her mouth dipping further at my blasé reaction. “What’s going on with you? You seem lost lately.”
I moved away, setting my water back down, not ready to get a lecture.
“Your grandfather told me you quit football.” It should be a statement, a truth she already knew, but the layer of questions under the simple remark blared out what she really wanted to know. Why? Why would I leave something I supposedly loved? Why would I walk away from coaching football?
“I know he’s disappointed—”
“Stop right there, young man.” She held up her finger at me. “Your grandfather and I could never be disappointed in you. We’re confused about why you left. Why you’d leave something you loved. We just don’t want you to miss out on things. To have regrets later. Your father regretted leaving school and not graduating with his friends. We don’t want you to make those same mistakes.” She came around to me, forcing me to look at her. “We love you so much, Mason. What you’ve gone through… no one should have to experience, especially someone so young. But all you can do is make it the best you can from here on out.”
My throat bobbed, biting back the conflicting emotions she was bringing to the surface. I didn’t love coaching anymore. It actually hurt more than made me happy, but it also made me sad knowing I’d never be on the field again.
“And if coaching is not what you want to do, we’re fine with it. But find something that gives you joy. Something that makes you end every day feeling fulfilled. Otherwise, what was it all for? All that you fought for, to merely let it all slip away? It would all be for nothing. Don’t waste it. Don’t give up on things you love.”
My head dropped, her sentiment wrenching my chest.
“You are a gift, Mason.” Her hand touched my cheek. “Don’t treat my gift as though it was garbage.”
My lids squeezed, and I swallowed back the tears. I had not let them come out in a very long time. I didn’t think I deserved to show sorrow anymore. I had no right to.
She patted my jaw softly. “And you need to shave.”
A scoff curled out of my throat. She always nagged at me to shave, wanting me to show my “handsome face,” which was one thing I tended to ignore. The scruff was here to stay.
“When you’re done and cleaned up, can you take a look at the sink again? It’s backing up.” She tottered back to the door.
“You know we can easily replace it with a new one.” I grinned, already knowing what she’d say.