Page 34 of Mechanic

“Can you please give…” Rod’s voice trails off, waiting for my name.

“Antonia,” I manage to croak out.

“Antonia,” he continues. My name on his lips is like a warm blanket on a cold day, making heat flood my body. “A glass of water?”

“Shit!” Gypsy exclaims, scrambling to get it for me.

Her hands are shaking with nerves, causing some of the fluid to spill onto the bar.

“I keep forgetting not to make them so strong,” she says apologetically.

Waving off her concern, I gulp down the cool water, setting the glass down only when it’s empty.

Gypsy refills the water glass and then heads to the kitchen.

“So…”

“When…”

Both Rod and I start speaking at the same time. He holds his hand out, indicating that I should go first.

“You live around here?” I ask, not sure exactly where to start. Flirting has never been in my wheelhouse.

Rod takes a long drink as if stalling for time to consider his answer.

“Recent transplant,” he says cryptically.

Gypsy drops off a plate for both of us, which surprises me as I don’t remember him ordering anything.

After topping off our drinks she gives us some privacy.

“How about you?” Rod asks between bites. “I don’t remember seeing you around until now.”

“Recent transplant,” I respond, parroting his own words back to him, causing him to smirk.

Turning back to my food, butterflies fill my belly due to the beautiful specimen of a male sitting next to me. He has an aura of authority about him, but it’s understated.

I caught him looking at me Saturday night. It was all I could do to stay in place, something drawing me to him. It was all I could do to stay in place. Thankfully, Rhodee and her sisters refocused my attention away from him, saving me from doing something stupid.

“Do you work nearby?” Rod asks, breaking the silence between us.

“Yeah, pretty close,” I say, not wanting to give too many details. “What about you?”

“Same,” he says.

Biting my tongue, I simply chuckle.

“Would you, ah, could I…maybe we, ah, ya know,” Rod says, or tries to.

Tilting my head slightly just in time to see the blush on his face, I take a sip of my drink to hide my smile, stalling to see if he finishes his statement. When he doesn’t, I prompt him.

“Are you…asking me out?” I guess, watching his face turn a darker shade of crimson.

“Yeah, I am,” he says with a depreciating chuckle. Rod rubs the back of his neck before peering over at me.

“You don’t seem like the shy and quiet type,” I state honestly.

“Normally, I’m not,” he responds.

---