Page 15 of That Moment
“Yeah,” I sigh, pretending to focus on the car. “His dick was too big; he got sick of me not being able to handle it.” Even though I try, I can’t stop myself from laughing after I say it, but he fails to see the humor in it.
“Sounds like a you problem. User error.”
The comment hits a little below the belt, but I’m too focused on how flustered he’s getting to be annoyed. I’m about to say something snarky back when he steps closer, his chest bumping against mine as he stares down at me.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Slade, but you keep talking like that,” he says low, “and I’ll show you just how good I am at fitting a big, thick tool into a tight little slot.”
My pen stalls mid-word, and suddenly I’m the one flustered, scrambling to look busy while my pulse pounds in my ears.
The hood casts us in shadow, close enough that I can feel the heat of his arm brushing mine whenever we both lean in. He’s focused, all business, explaining the way the belts should sit and how to check tension, but my attention keeps snagging on the line of his jaw, the grease streaks that look too good on him, the way his voice drops low when he gets technical.
I lean a little closer than I have to, pretending I’m studying what he’s pointing at. My shoulder bumps his, light but intentional. “So you’re saying you like things slow and steady.”
He grunts, reaching for the socket wrench. “I’m saying you don’t force it if it’s not ready. You gotta be willing to work with her a little more than normal if necessary. Sometimes she just needs a bit of finessing.”
I smother a smile. “Pretty sure I’ve heard that one before.”
“Focus, Barbie.” His voice is dry, but the corner of his mouth twitches. Almost a smile.
Encouraged, I push a little harder. “If you’re this good at getting a stuck-on bolt loose, I can only imagine?—”
His head snaps up, eyes narrowing. For a second, I think he’ll shut me down cold. But then, his mouth curves into that slow, sinful grin I’ve known since high school. The one he tries not to give me.
“So is this your new thing then? Put all your pent-up frustration into this car and drag me along with you?”
I shrug. “Just want to put some effort into something besides work… or a man.”
That gets his attention. He pauses, his brows furrowed as if he’s studying me. “Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head. “Would you do something if he had?” I bat my eyes at him, attempting to bring some levity to the conversation. “Scotty, my hero.”
He smirks. “Of course I would. You’re practically a sister to me.”
“A sister?” I know what he’s doing, attempting to douse this slow, simmering fire between us with cold water rather than gasoline. “You know we’ve kissed before, right?”
“You know what I meant.” The moment grows tense between us, his eyes dropping down to my lips for a second.
“Are you frustrated you want to again?” I know I shouldn’t.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he murmurs.
Heat shoots straight through me. My pen stalls on the page of my notebook, the wordbeltsscribbled halfway before turning into nonsense. I clear my throat, trying to play it cool. “Someone thinks highly of themselves.”
He leans forward on his hands, looking over his shoulder at me. “Do you want to learn how to fix this car or not, Adrienne?” His tone is serious.
“Fine. Teach me the boring stuff.”
“Basics aren’t boring.” His tone is firm, but he’s still smiling when he hands me the wrench.
I take it, my glove brushing his hand, and my chest flips at the contact. It’s stupid how much that one crack in his armor feels like a win.
So I listen. Really listen. He talks me through belts, hoses, and the carb. I jot notes in neat handwriting while grease smudges across my wrist. Every so often, I test him with another nudge, a brush of my shoulder, a soft hum when I catch on faster than he expected. And each time, he redirects me back to the Mustang, grounding us in the work.
Still, the longer we stand shoulder to shoulder, the less it feels like deflection and more like… something else. Like he’s holding the line, but barely.
I set the pry bar, ease the alternator until the belt gives a clean quarter inch, then snug the bolts myself. His gaze cuts to me like he’s surprised, then he gives a real nod. “Good.”
“You sound surprised.”
