Page 12 of Jumping In

“I know, but what else am I supposed to do? Mom and Dad don’t really have any friends in town anymore. You guys are the only friends I’ve got, and you don’t know the difference between a tire and wheel,” my voice booms through the shop as my frustration boils over.

“Aren’t they the same thing?” Austin murmurs to Blake and Blake punches him in the stomach. I laugh because he’s proving my point.

“We’ll help however we can. You know that,” Blake offers.

I nod and thank him for the offer. Heading back to the workbench, I try to calm my racing heart and hide my shaking hands.

I’m busy working on a broken AC belt when I hear tires on the gravel outside the shop. The large garage door is open to allow some air to circulate through the shop, and theafternoon breeze is helping tremendously. I pull my head out from under the hood and my jaw nearly hits the ground when I see MJ in her red Jeep parked all cockeyed in the driveway. She opens the door, sliding out of her Jeep and the gravel crunches under her feet as she marches toward me. My eyes scan her body from her toes up to her face. The fire in her eyes tells me everything I need to know.Fuck.

“How can I help you, ma’am?” I ask, going for the professional route. The way MJ is looking at me right now, I know she’s pissed about something, and it’s likely my fault.

“Ma’am? Really, Mac? What the fuck is going on with you?” She blinks when she cusses, and it makes it so hard to take her seriously. I try to hold back my smirk, but she’s just so cute when she’s fired up.

“Not sure whatcha mean, darlin’.” I give her my best southern drawl, again trying to lighten up her mood a smidge. Even though Blake and Austin assured me she didn’t know about the trial just hours ago, I’m pretty sure she knows now.

“Seriously, Mac? I had to hear from my dad that you robbed Henry’s? Are you fucking crazy? Please tell me it was someone else. That they got the wrong guy. Because this . . . this isn’t you!” She blinks again when she says “fucking” but she also didn’t take a single breath while spewing that out at me.

My heart is pounding, and my hands are shaking, but this time it’s not the anxiety. No, my blood is boiling because little miss Emmalynn Jane thinks she knows me after nottalking to me for six years. She has no fucking clue who I am or what’s been going on since she left.

“A lot has changed in the last six years, MJ!” I raise my voice slightly and regret it when she flinches. I don’t want to hurt her or upset her more. I just need to get my point across and get her out of here quickly.

Helping my cause, Beck walks out of Spoon, and I imagine we are quite the sight to see. MJ with her hands on her hips, looking all kinds of pissed off. Me, raising my voice at her.Fuck. We make eye contact when Beck lifts her chin. I shake my head and MJ turns to look at who I’m acknowledging.

Beck waves and then yells across the street, “Fight nice, you two!” Then she turns her back on us and heads back into Spoon.

“Fill me in, Mac. Things have changed, like what?” MJ pries.Fuck that.

“Nope.” I pop the “p” in my reply and don’t give her anything else. I stare down at her and watch her cheeks, neck, and chest turn pink.

MJ throws her hands up to the sky and shakes her head. “Ugh, Mac! You’re so fucking frustrating!”

I take a step toward her and nod to her car. “Did you need help with your Jeep? Oil change, maybe? You know, we’re running a special . . .”

“No! Jesus, ugh!” She spins on her heel and opens her door. I watch her hop back into the Jeep and I shake my head. She’s practically seething, looking down at me from her lifted seat as she throws the car into reverse. Once she turns outof the driveway, she breaks eye contact, and I see her shake her head in defeat.

Well, that could have gone better. But also, it could have gone worse. I try to shrug off the mental images of MJ yelling at me. My best fucking friend.Ex-best friend, I remind myself. My pulse is still racing, and the box breathing isn’t helping. I name things I can see, hear, and feel. Finally, I’m feeling back to normal.

I pull out my phone and shoot a text to the BAMF chat to let the guys know what just happened. I feel like a pussy, but I could use Blake’s advice and Austin’s goofiness to figure out my next course of action before I fuck anything else up. Thankfully, they’re both free and can meet me at Hal’s later tonight. While I’m not wild about going to Hal’s, I can’t deny spending time with the guys will help. My mind muddied and playing through so many scenarios, I try to finish up the AC belt and a few smaller projects before calling it quits for the day.

Hot wind blows in my face as I make the short walk down the street to Hal’s. My body is buzzing with a mixture of frustration and regret. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at MJ earlier. And of that entire conversation, I think I regret that part the most.

I clench my fists a few times as I approach the door to Hal’s. The guys are already there, so hopefully I can just walk in, find them,and quickly head to the table and sit down. No need to stop and chit-chat. I huff out a laugh. Who am I kidding? No one is going to want to make small talk with me. More like talk shit as I walk by. But again, no need to overhear any of that nonsense.

Just as I hoped, I easily spot Blake’s blockhead through the crowd. I make a beeline for the table and slide into the open chair next to Austin.

“Whoa, man, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Austin yells over the music.

Blake’s shoulders shake from laughter, and I crack a grin. “Sorry,” I apologize. “What are we drinking?”

Blake holds up a glass of clear liquid that looks awfully like water. “Figured you’d need a sober buddy for the talk I think we’re about to have,” he says as he tips his glass toward me. I roll my eyes but am also grateful for his forethought.

Austin hands me a beer and clinks his glass with mine. “Drink up motherfucker!” he yells as he takes a gulp. Blake rolls his eyes, and I do as the man said and take a drink.

I set the glass down and take a deep breath before rehashing everything that went down earlier in front of my dad’s shop. Finishing my beer, I ask the server for a water next. I don’t want to be buzzed for this conversation either.

“So let me get this straight. She straight-up asked you to fill her in on what’s been going on over the last few years and you just refused?” Blake asks, and I nod. “Why?”

I shrug and look across the bar, which is full of people who used to smile when they saw me on the street. Now it’s dirty looks and whispers. “Does it matter? She hasn’t reached outin the last four years and now she’s interested in what’s been going on?” I rub my hand along my jean-clad thigh. “She hasn’t cared this whole time and now she probably thinks I’m some charity case and wants to help. But where was she four years ago? Hell, where was she seven years ago?”

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