Page 65 of Grease Monkey
The strong aroma of coffee, coupled with the unmistakable scent of cinnamon, fills the air, and my stomach instantly grumbles as I wait in the long line to the counter. Smacking a palm over my belly, I rub it as I glance up at the chalk menu board on the wall. Approaching the counter, I eye the various cakes and pastries filling the glass display case and my mouth waters.
Cinnamon roll, oh, how you taunt me.
“Hi, what can I get you?”
“Could I please ha—”
“Hope you don’t mind. I’m running late, and I need my fixing of coffee before my meeting.”
I blink, standing with my mouth parted as a tall, skinny woman in a white knee-length skirt turns back to the counter and orders two tall Americanos with creamer, pulling a twenty-dollar bill from her purse and sliding it over the counter.The barista stares at her, her jaw flexing before plastering on the fakest smile I’ve ever seen and wordlessly filling two paper cups from a coffee urn, setting them to the side.
Turning back to me, she’s allgenuinesmiles and cheer, as she says, “Sorry about her. Let’s try again. Welcome to Grounded. What can I get you?”
“Um, excuse me?” The woman butts inagain, holding the paper cup in front of the barista. “I asked for creamer?”
“It’s on the side, as always. Help yourself.”
“Is it always like this?” I ask, voice low.
She side-eyes the woman and shrugs her shoulder. “Nope, just her. But we all know she’ll be much more tolerable when she comes in tomorrow.” I quirk my brows, and the barista winks. “Not from around here, I take it? Well, it’s a small town. I’m sure you’ll bump into Prince Charming sometime soon.”
Why do I feel like I’ve already met him?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Teddy
“Dude. Am I glad to see you.”
Ozzy’s large palm smacks my ass so hard I can feel the vibration in my teeth. God help any poor woman who lets him spank her.
“Jesus, fuck, Oz,” I grumble, rubbing my stinging ass cheek. That’s going to leave an Ozzy-shaped handprint.
“Sorry.” The fucker laughs, joining in to massage my butt with his indelicate sausage fingers. “Better now, baby?”
Batting his hand away, I push at his chest. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you meant to be asleep?”
“Nah, man,” he says through a stifled yawn. I drop my head in areally?look, which he shakes off with a sleepy smile. “I needed to come in this morning. Helped thehottestdamsel in destress last night.”
He tilts his head back, biting on his bottom lip with a groan, which is Ozzy speak for just how hot he thought this girl was. Also, for Ozzy to be here at the ass crack of dawn, she must be something spectacular. My best friend and business partner wouldn’t be caught dead before noon on the days he works nights. And by the scruffy way-past-five o’clock fuzz on his jaw and the dark rings starting to line his tired eyes, I’d say she must be someone worth staying up for.
“And you wanted to be here when she comes by?” I hedge.
“Hell yes, I did. I needed to get here and call dibs before you see her.” He wiggles his brows. “Honestly, Teddy, tight little ass, tits that just begged to be held. There’s no way I’m letting you fuck her, then toss her to the side and ruin any chance I have with her.”
I huff. “Pfft, how do you know I would have done that?”
He stares incredulously.
“Seriously? Do I need to remind the manwhore himself just how many women he’s been with since moving back to Phoenix? You’ve got yourself a reputation, my man.”
“I’m not that bad,” I try to protest. I mean, I’m red-blooded,single, twenty-seven, and I’m a guy. My sexual appetite is perfectly normal—albeit slightly indulgent—but if the girls are interested, who am I to say no? But I know what the locals call me, and even if it bothers me a little, I try to ignore town gossip.
“Yes, you are, my friend. That girl of yours back in good Ol’ Greenwich must have really done—”
“What have I told you about mentioning that bitch?” I snap, and he winces, holding his hands up apologetically. He knows better than to mentionherin this garage. In fact, anywhere in my vicinity. The one name that has my skin prickling in pain and makes the blackened stoneshecreated squeeze from deep inside the cavern of my ribs. He knows a little of my life in Old Greenwich, of the girl who was once mine. But she was never fucking truly mine, was she? Not in the way she always whispered—promised—she was.
My teeth grind hard against each other, the scrape of enamel loud enough I’d bet Ozzy could hear.
