Page 77 of Outcast
“Yeah, that could work.” He flashed me a nervous smile. “Wish me luck.”
“You won’t need it,” I said encouragingly.
Marty was a good-looking guy. If he could find a little more confidence with women, he’d have no trouble meeting someone. He tended to crush from afar and never make a move, though.
He stopped twice on his way across the bar, pausing to look over his shoulder at me. I motioned him forward each time, not about to let him back out.
He joined Sasha by the jukebox, saying something that made her turn her head. She glanced toward me. Time to go before she decided to come give me an update in person.
I slipped off the barstool, gave Marty one last encouraging nod, and headed home.
Marty’s bright smile as I went out the door was a good distraction from the darker thoughts tugging at me. The guilt and grief and remorse that clung to me no matter how many years went by.
As soon I got to my bedroom, I stripped down to my underwear, leaving my clothes piled on the chair, and climbed into bed. When sleep eluded me, I determinedly thought about Gray and the way he’d kissed me tonight and said,You’re too hard on yourself.
The way he’d called me sweetheart.
It had just slipped out. He hadn’t really meant it.
He also didn’t know the full story. I deserved to be hard on myself. Every day, I deserved to hurt for Adam. It was only fair since I got to live a life that had been stolen from him.
But I still replayed that moment with Gray again and again, drowning out everything else with Gray’s warm lips and sweet words, until I fell asleep.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Gray
“Got a call for a tow!”Holden called from the office.
I slid out from under a 2018 Nissan Rogue, where I was helping Bailey out with a brake job while he worked on a larger transmission replacement. “Okay, give me two minutes to wash my hands.”
“Aw, c’mon!” Bailey protested. “With Jose out sick, I need a second pair of hands. Can’t you do it, Holden?”
“Not unless someone else is going to get our books ready for a call with Gray’s boyfriend in the next ten minutes.”
My stomach flipped. “Very funny.”
Holden grinned. “I thought so. It’s not like you’re fooling any of us. You’ve got a crush.”
I went to the sink and pumped Grip Clean soap into my hands, the back of my neck heating. “Go work on your precious books.” I paused. “But you’re not cooking them, are you? I don’t want Emory getting in any trouble.”
Holden pointed at me. “I’m gonna let that go because I know you’re just trying to change the subject.”
“He’s so got a crush,” Bailey said, smirking.
The little shit had been feeling himself ever since he came out over dinner two nights ago. I couldn’t really blame him, though. Shedding secrecy and fear was exhilarating.
“But to answer your question, no, I’m not fucking cooking the books,” Holden said. “They were a mess when I took over, though, so I’ve been putting them into order so they make sense to your lover boy.”
I picked up the keys to the tow truck and started toward the open garage door when five bikes rolled up: three Harley models, one Indian Scout, and a very sweet vintage Triumph cruiser.
“Whoa. Is that a whole damn biker gang?” Bailey asked.
I grinned and tossed the keys at Holden. “Better find someone else to go on that tow job.”
Holden didn’t look too disappointed. But then, this was what we’d been working toward. We’d made the rounds at the pool hall, placed online ads, made calls to biker event organizers.
I went outside to greet the bikers. “Heya. How can I help you?”
