Seven

Layla

Baby girl? Oh, great. He’s enlisting the help of one of his many. I groan deeply and curse my shitty luck.

After a quick conversation that mostly involves him giving the location, make, and model of our car, he hangs up the phone.

Elle squeals like a groupie when she sees Blake’s black Rubicon in the lot. “We get to ride in that?”

“How the heck do we get in it?” I say, making sure I keep my voice low so Blake can’t hear.

The thing is lifted high on tires that are almost as tall as I am. Its dark-tinted windows blend in with the coal-colored paint. He opens the passenger side doors and waits for us to load up.

Climbing in is easier than I thought, but once inside, I’m surrounded by the woodsy scent of his aftershave. After last night, I decided that I’d accept a friendship with Blake, but I’d never allow my head to go where my body leads when Blake’s close. Engulfed in the aroma of pine trees and bark after a good rain, I’m squirming in my seat.

He fires up the engine and pulls onto the main road. The stereo is playing AFI’s “Silver and Cold”, and I’m singing along in my head.

“AFI and Metallica?” he says, and gives me a quick peek before turning his eyes back to the road.

“Um… what?” The mention of Metallica brings back our conversation from last night, and how easily we fell into a light-hearted debate about the metal band. And the ease in which I forgot my place and let down my guard.

He points to his stereo. “You like AFI.”

I swing my gaze out the window, hoping to avoid another conversation that might end like last night’s. “Oh, I don’t really—”

“You were humming.”

My shoulders tense to my ears. I was freakin’ humming? Not the best way to show my apathy. “They’re okay.”

“Mom listens to AFI when she cleans. She has at least four of their CDs.” Thank you for the outing, Elle.

The rest of the car ride is silent. Blake never talks about music again and stares straight ahead. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He’s leaning back, one arm stretched out to the steering wheel, the other cocked, resting outside the open window. His large, muscular thighs are open and relaxed, filling out his jeans to perfection.

That’s the type of thing I told myself I’d stop noticing about him. And yet…

The effort it takes to try to come up with a list of Blake’s unattractive qualities takes a lot of concentration, and suddenly we’re parking in the lot of an auto body shop. “Guy’s Garage” is painted in blue letters outside the industrial-style building.

We all climb down from his car and follow him into the multi-car garage.

That’s when I see her. A young woman, probably not much older than Elle, comes from around the front end of a truck. Her dark hair is piled high on her head, messy but somehow put together. Her long, slender frame is covered in blue work overalls, which are unzipped at the top to reveal a bright yellow shirt. That’s got to be baby girl.

“Wow,” Elle whispers from over my shoulder.

My jaw falls open when I notice the color of her eyes, a unique mix of blue and green like I’ve never seen. A pale scar slices through one of her eyebrows. Where most scars would hinder a person’s beauty, this one only enhances her unique look. She’s the type of girl I’d picture Blake with. Young, and girl-crush gorgeous.

“Baby girl.” Blake leans in and whispers something in her ear.

Whatever it is has her giggling. Probably all manner of inappropriate.

My chest tightens with something that feels like—but absolutely cannot be—jealousy.

“Layla and Axelle, this is my friend, Raven.”

Friend, yeah right. Fuck-buddy’s more like it.

The gorgeous girl steps around and holds out her hand.

I grab it and shake. “Nice to meet you, Raven.”

“You too, Layla. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

My eyes skate to Blake and then back to her. “Really?”

“Sure.” She smiles warmly.

Hmm, that’s strange. I didn’t know talking about your boss’s new assistant was popular pillow talk.

I listen, or act like I’m listening, as Blake fills Raven in on my situation.

“…they’ll need a loaner until you get their truck running.” He finishes with a shrug and a grin.

“No, please.” My cheeks burn. Paying for the repairs will take all our money, so there’s no way I can afford a rental car. But I don’t want his help, and I really don’t want his girlfriend to get pissed that he’s negotiating deals for me. “I couldn’t ask for that. Just the repair on the truck will be fine.”

“Mouse, you need a car. You need to get to work and Axelle to school. Repairs could take days.” He looks at Raven. “Am I right?”

“Of course,” she says, her bright eyes warm with generosity. “Blake wants you to have a loaner, so we’ll get you one. No charge.”

Charming girls out of more than their panties, I add free car rentals to the list.

As much as I could use the help, it feels dirty to accept. “Blake, it’s sweet that you want to help, but I’m not comfortable—”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a car rental,” he says with a flat tone of annoyance.

“No, it’s more than that.” I try to communicate with my eyes that I don’t want anything from his girlfriend, or naked playmate—whoever she is.

“It’s not.” He presses his lips together in a tight line.

I throw my shoulders back and look him in the eye. “It is. I said no thank you.” Lifting my eyebrows, I give a tiny nod, hoping he gets that I’m trying to save him from an uncomfortable situation with his baby girlfriend.

His face is blank. He studies my expression. I widen my eyes and smile. His eyes narrow. Ugh. Men suck at non-verbal communication.

I drop my head back in defeat and fight the urge to throw my hands up and scream. “Raven, your um, Blake, is a nice guy, but I can’t accept—”

“Come on.” He grabs hold of my hand and drags me across the lot.

Two distinct giggles come from Elle and Raven, and I look over my shoulder to see them smiling. What in the hell’s so funny?

He walks me around to the back of his Jeep so that we’re hidden from onlookers.

“Let me go.” When I yank against his hold, he grips me tighter. “Blake, seriously. This is nuts.”

“We need to talk.” He lets go of my arm. Taking me by my shoulders, he positions me so that my butt settles against his rear bumper. With one firm flick, his sunglasses are off. He hooks them on the neck of his blue t-shirt then crosses his arms at his chest. “Cut the shit.”

“Shit?”

“At the training center you were all apologies and fuckin’ cute as hell. We get here, and you start throwin’ up walls. Just like last night.” He takes a step closer. “So tell me, Mouse. What the fuck?”

“I’m not throwing up walls. I can’t afford—”

“Nu-uh. No. You do not make this shit about money. Last night you went whack-job on me, and that had nothing to do with money.”

I drop my gaze and study my feet. Last night it was Mac, and now Raven. I can’t explain why the thought of him with different women pisses me off. Mainly because I can’t figure it out myself. Men were not part of the plan after I left. Especially not men like Blake Daniels.

“I don’t know.” It’s a stupid reply, but it’s the truth. I stare at his shoulder, not wanting to get sidetracked by his eyes.

“You don’t know.”

Quiet tension festers between us. He runs his hand over his short-cropped hair to the back of his neck.

“Blake, I can’t afford a rental.”

“You won’t be payin’.” His clipped tone of frustration reignites my anger.

I may not have the answers to why the thought of him sleeping with the beautiful mechanic has me pissed, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m pissed.

“I know that, Blake. Trust me. I know exactly how she’ll take payment.”

Two steps and he’s in my face. The heat from his car presses into my back.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem? You’re the one who uses your dick like a credit card.”

He stares me down, his emerald eyes digging deep. “What did he do to you?”

I suck in a ragged breath.

“Can’t be much older than thirty, got a sixteen-year-old daughter. Alone in a new town. No man around to fix your car.” His words are spoken in soft whispers, like he’s talking to himself. “You’re always on guard, like the next guy might destroy you with a look.”

My chest heaves as I scramble for air. His eyes search mine, and I’m unable to speak while locked in his gaze.

“Shadows. I can see ’em dancing in there.” His expression is pinched with what looks like concern. “Shit, Mouse. What’d he do?”

He lays his palm on his Jeep beside my head and leans in, his tall body curving over mine. I don’t answer, afraid my voice might break, or I’ll show a weakness I can’t afford to expose.

I told myself I’d stay away from guys like Blake. It’s because of my fascination with the wrong type of guy that I ended up a teenage mother. Not that I’d change what happened that night. Everything that happened after, yes. But not that night.

That night brought me Axelle. And her, I’ll never regret.

Blake

I’m so close to her perfect pink lips. A slight shift of my body weight and my mouth would be on hers. A small gust of wind carries the vanilla scent of her skin, and calls to my senses. My dick is achingly hard, pressing to get closer to her. And with most girls, I do just that. But not this one.