Page 98 of That Moment
He moves around me with infuriating ease, calm and unbothered, while I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a live wire. The rhythmic sound of metal against metal only amplifies the tension stretching between us.
Finally, I slam the wrench down on the workbench. “Okay, enough.”
He glances over, one brow raised, sweat darkening the collar of his shirt. “Enough what?”
“This,” I say, waving my hand between us. “The pretending. The quiet. You're acting like nothing happened. I can’t keepstanding here like I didn’t say everything I said earlier. Either we talk now, or this is it. I can’t keep doing this.”
He straightens slowly, wipes his hands on a rag, and leans a hip against the car. His face is unreadable, but his tone is maddeningly calm. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
I exhale, pushing hair from my face. “You humiliated me at that bar.”
His jaw flexes. “You mean the way you humiliated me when Dolly told me some guy was hitting on you and you gave him your number?”
“Oh my god, this again? That is not the same thing.”
“The hell it isn’t.” His voice drops lower, steady but sharp. “You wanted to get a rise out of me. Congratulations. It worked. So I did it in return. Now we’re even.”
I blink, thrown by his raw honesty. “You think Iwantedto start that fight?”
He snorts. “I think you wanted to see if I’d care.”
My stomach twists because he’s not entirely wrong. While I didn’t ask for the guy's number and had no intention of telling Scotty about the encounter, I enjoyed the look on his face after Dolly told me why he was so angry.
“Like you didn’t do the same thing,” I say quietly. “You made sure everyone in that place saw me be humiliated.”
He looks away, dragging a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, well. That’s not exactly my proudest moment.”
Something in his voice softens the edge of my anger. I let out a long breath, my heart still hammering. “For the record, if I’d heard from anyone that you’d been flirting with another woman, dancing and getting her number… I would’ve reacted the same way.”
That gets his attention. His eyes lift to mine, searching.
“I’m not saying it was right,” I add quickly. “But I’m human. And jealous. And clearly terrible at hiding it.”
He studies me for a beat, expression unreadable, before muttering, “Guess we’re both shitty at communication.”
I laugh once, short and tired. “Yeah, you think?”
For a moment, the silence between us softens. Then I shake my head and sigh. “We can’t keep doing this, Scotty. The fighting, the jealousy, the mixed signals. We need?—”
He tilts his head, waiting. “Need what?”
“Ground rules,” I say finally. “Or boundaries. Or… something that keeps us from blowing each other up again.”
He frowns, clearly thrown. “Ground rules about what?”
I force myself to meet his eyes. My throat is dry, but I say it anyway. “About us.”
His brows lift slightly, that maddening smirk tugging at his mouth. “Us?”
I swallow hard. “About us… hooking up.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and electric. His gaze lingers on me, slow and assessing, like he’s deciding whether to laugh, argue, or pull me closer. Then, with a rough exhale, he pushes off the car and steps toward me. His eyes narrow, jaw working as he studies me. “So that’s what we’ve decided this is?”
I cross my arms, matching his stare even though my pulse is doing cartwheels. “Until we both say it’s something different, yeah. That’s what it is. Friends with benefits.”
“Friends with benefits,” he repeats slowly, like he’s testing the words. His voice drops lower. “Is that what you want?”
I let out a laugh that gives me away; it’s too quick, too defensive. “I don’t know what I want, remember? You already called me out on that.”
