Page 21 of The Sweetest Devotion

Jake frowned, his eyes shooting to the people in the lobby and then toward the mechanics in the garage. He hung his head and shook it. “I didn’t see you go back there. It’s all on you.”

Keith must’ve had him intimidated, because I was too tempted to laugh at the threat.

Feeling perky, I quickly settled the bill and handed over my debit card. It was a smoke signal for my parents on where I was, but I didn’t care in the moment. I’d needed last night away from them and that party. I’d needed to clear my head. And while my head wasn’t exactly clear or less anxiety riddled, I was ready to face them, and Cain.

I shoved my receipt in my clutch and made my way down the familiar corridor to the back office. Each step found my heart beating hard in my chest. Here it was, my return to the scene of the crime—quite an illustrious crime at that.

The hard part was over; we’d already seen each other naked. There was no reason for me to be so nervous as I gripped the doorknob and felt relief when I saw that it wasn’t locked. I blew out a shaky breath and opened the door.

Dr. Dre’s “Still D.R.E.” played through the shop’s radio system. Keith was in the office bobbing his head to the classic late ’90s song. He was caught up writing something in what looked like a ledger before he noticed me.

Today he was wearing glasses, an added bonus, because they only seemed to make him finer. The round gold frames complemented his skin tone and gorgeous face. Usually, I liked men clean shaven, but on Keith, I liked the scruff.I even kinda liked that he looked mean, the male version of Resting Bitch Face—orResting Asshole Face. It worked for him, and facing him again after seeing him less than twenty-four hours ago, I now understood why Jake was intimidated by him. One thing evident about Keith’s demeanor and energy, was that he wasn’t to be played with.

Suddenly, I wasn’t nervous. I almost felt playful when I thought about the way he hadn’t done a thing about my changing his radio station in his tow truck.

“Kennedy.” Keith placed the pen he’d been using in the spine of the ledger and stood up. Like the other mechanics, he was sporting a dark gray short-sleeved work shirt and matching pants. His name was scrawled in cursive on a patch above his right pec.

He must’ve changed last night, as he’d been about to close up when I’d called.

Keith kept his distance, staying behind the desk as he took me in. “How are you?”

Formalities, huh? “Good. You?”

He shrugged, his face grim. “I’m okay. But I need to apologize for last night.”

Apologize? “What for?”

Keith searched my gaze for something, determination etched across his face. “I crossed the line, inhere, and I’m sorry.”

“What? No, you didn’t,” I responded. Of all the scenarios I’d considered this morning when I was getting dressed to come here, I hadn’t imagined him feeling remorseful.

“You sure?” Keith questioned. He rounded his desk and parked himself in front of it, still a safe space from me. He folded his arms and gestured at me with a tilt of his head. “A young woman from out of town stranded in the road, and here I was supposed to help you, and I ended up taking advantage.”

Now wasnotthe time for chivalry. “That’s not what happened. I flirted with you. Iwantedyou. I had a good time last night, and now, I guess I’m the only one who did.”

What a great way for my rebellion to blow up in my face.

“That’s not what I said,” Keith was quick to say.

Oh.

He was quiet as he began to scratch at his neck. A tic he seemed to have whenever he appeared thoughtful.

“You liked it,” I said, needing to hear his confirmation.

Keith stared at me impassively. “I did.”

We needed to work on his emotions, but I would take his enjoyment in what we’d done. “Good. So did I. Really, if my life wasn’t so complicated right now I’d try to make a thing of this.”

“And as flattered as I would be at the offer, I’d say no,” Keith said matter-of-factly.

His words startled me. “What?”

Keith sighed and looked elsewhere around the room before coming back to me, lifting and dropping his shoulder lazily. “I was distracted last night, but ordinarily, I don’t fuck with OPP.”

OPP.

Other People’s Pussy.

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