Page 75 of Grease Monkey
Pride surges through me, but I crush that feeling like a motherfucker. I don’t need her empty words of praise.
“Yeah, well, you’ll have to admire it another time. I’m closing up.” I walk past her and lift a funnel I’d washed earlier, placing it on a shelf.
She gawks. “I thought your text said the car would be ready by the end of today?”
“Did it?”It did.I click my tongue. “Well, unfortunately, the part isn’t in”—the car—“so it’s still not fixed.”
Because it’s in a box, in my desk drawer, and I’ll let it collect dust before I fit it.
She huffs, trying not to look agitated by my wasting time. “You couldn’t have messaged me that?”
I shrug. “Lost track of time.”
She loudly inhales through her nose, and I know she’s biting something back. Morgana was never one to let her true emotions slip. Had that beaten out of her from a young age, but I could always see through that.
“Say it,” I goad and unable to help myself, my eyes drag down her body again.
“Say what?”
“Whatever you’re holding back. You’re mad. I never told you it wasn’t ready.”
Her eyes narrow a fraction, and I’d have missed it if I wasn’t looking. Lifting her chin, she smiles weakly.
“It’s fine. If I’d known I couldn’t collect it, I could have stayed later at work to submit a report. But I can get into the office early tomorrow to do it. No big deal,” she says, and I must admit, I’m slightly disappointed she didn’t yell at me. Instead, she itches her head, that obnoxiously large rock sparkling in the overhead light, and she turns her back to what I can only assume is to stare at my garage again. While she’s looking at whatever, I take the chance to properly check her out unnoticed instead of trying to be sneaky, starting from her feet, up her long slender legs, round ass, waist, hips and… what the fuck?
“You straightened your hair.”
She spins, her eyebrows pinching together. “Yeah? So?”
“I don’t like it.”
She huffs a laugh, her hand lifting and running down the length of herstraightblonde hair. “Fortunately, your opinion doesn’t matter anymore, Teddy.”
I step toward her and pick up a piece of her hair, still as soft and silky as I remember.Damn it.
“I still don’t like it,” I repeat, tugging on a strand, and dropping it with a scowl.Why the fuck do I care?I cross my arms over my chest and lean casually against a Jeep Cherokee I plan to finish tomorrow. Smirking, I say, “Must suck for your fiancé. Whatever does he hold on to when he’s fucking you from behind?”
She gasps, her eyes flaring with shock and embarrassment?Oh, this is too fucking good.
“Jesus.” I laugh loudly, loving the way her cheeks pinken. “Don’t tell me he’s a missionary kind of guy?”
“I’m not discussing my sex life with you.”
I howl with laughter again and start to wander around her, raking my eyes up and down her body at every angle. “He is, isn’t he? Morgana, did you break up with me for thatloser?”
“I didn’t break up with you for anyone, Teddy. I broke…” she spits, her composure slipping before she breaks off just as it gets to the good bit. She sighs heavily. “Teddy, can you please stop that?”
“Stop what?” I drawl from behind her, and the smell of her shampoo fills my nose. Fuck, if that doesn’t go straight to my dick too.
“Stop circling me.”
She spins as I continue to round her, like a vulture around its prey, around and around as she turns with me, her movements jerky as if she doesn’t want to let me out of her sight. I wouldn’t want to do that either if I were her. Vipers are dangerous when you don’t have your eyes on them every single second. Blink too long, and you could get bitten.
“You’ve filled out.”
She chokes.
“Excuse me?” Her hands fly to her hips, holding them in a death grip, and I can only imagine it’s because she wants to hit me. “Did you just call me fat?”
