I MADE A MISTAKE. A big fucking mistake. I agreed to play Rhia’s little friends with benefits game. After Rhia goes to her next class, all bright-eyed and flushed, I spin through my own classes and somehow make it to the garage.
A large, grated window offers a view of the bustling street outside. The scent of motor oil hangs in the air, the concrete floor stained and etched from years of mechanical projects. Grease-stained overalls and work gloves are strewn haphazardly over a nearby bench.
Thing is, Rhia’s not fooling me. She’s not as cucumber-cool as she was trying to appear. It made her nervous, proposing the idea to me. It’s really something she never tried before. Is her whole writing situation really that hard?
It has to be, for this to be her only solution.
It’s just strange. What’s even stranger is the fact that she’s essentially offering what I’ve secretly longed for, all wrapped up in a shiny, tempting package. And I’m doubting it. Was it wrong for me to accept? Maybe. Probably. I could’ve at least tried to come up with a more socially acceptable solution to her writing issue.
Man, I don’t know.
All I know is there was that ridiculous damn PowerPoint, and she was talking about finishing someone else for her little friends-with-benefits scheme, and I couldn’t stomach it. Couldn’t bear the thought of her being with someone else. The words were spilling out of my mouth before I could take them back.
Do I regret it?
No. Not really.
In the background, there’s the sound of machinery as Jem and Mason work in the center under the massive car lift. They’re working on some guy’s grandad’s ancient car. I told them it was beyond repair, the dude would get more money if he scrapped the metal, but they refused. They’re stubborn that way.
Ace is leaning against a workbench, sipping on a cold soda and trying his best to piss Jem and Mason off. “Hey, Mase, you think they’ll make a Fast and Furious movie about us one day? Call it, like, Charley’s Angels or some shit?”
I chuckle, peering at Mason, who’s deep into the car’s engine.
“No, Ace,” Mason murmurs.
Ace nods. “If they do, I want to be played by someone cool…like Keanu Reeves. Damn, why haven’t they added him to any of the movies yet?”
Mason doesn’t even look up from his work. “Wrench.”
Ace grins, handing him a wrench. He turns to Jem. “You know, J, you’ve got that brooding, mysterious thing going on. I’m thinking Jason Statham.”
Jem passes him an empty look, and I can’t help it. I laugh.
Working at the garage—Charley’s motor repair—is something I initially started as a way to make more money. I knew cars, and I was good at fixing them. And then I met the guys—Mason, the serious and mechanical genius; Ace, class clown, and Jem, the chill one who keeps the peace. As for me, I’m the observer, taking in the chaos around me.
And they’re practically blood now, and the garage is like my second home.
I got offered a better position as marketing intern about a year ago. The pay was better. But Mason was going through some stuff, and he was spending most of his time at the garage. We’ve all got shit we wish we didn’t have to deal with. I wanted to be there for him.
So yeah, didn’t take it.
The boys don’t know. If they did, they’d force me to leave. Insist that they’d be there for him, that I should do what’s best for me. Whatever. Way I see it, you’re here for a short time, and if you can’t be there for those who need you most, what’s the point?
I know the time will come for when I’ll eventually have to stop working here, take up something bigger, but I still have a while for that. For now, I’m just taking it one day at a time. I head to the back of the garage, and I’m acutely aware that Jem stops what he’s doing and follows me.
I turn, and Jem catches my eye, lifting a brow.
He’s not stupid. He was still in the courtyard when I walked out of the library hallway with Rhia not too far behind me. He can come to his own conclusions. I’m not going to be the one to tell him.
“What was that about?” he asks, “Earlier today?”
I shrug, not willing to offer anything up. She already asked me to keep it from Mason and Ever, and I doubt she’ll appreciate me blabbing about it to my friends.
“You and Rhia Singh,” he says.
I nod vaguely. “Me and Rhia Singh.”
Maybe Rhia was right, and this thing between us really will be blown out of proportion, because Jem’s the type of guy who minds his business, yet here he is, sticking his nose in mine. Guess it’s been a while since I’ve walked around with a girl on campus. And I know he never will, but if Jem says something stupid about her…
“You going to open your damn mouth or what?” Jem asks.
I give him a look. “Don’t be a dick.”
His lips lift slightly. “Yeah?”
“Let it go.”
But of course, he doesn’t let it go.
I sigh. “Jem.”
“Listen, Lo,” he says, “just tell me.”
Shit. Maybe I do need someone to talk to about this. And since Mason isn’t an option, Jem is pretty much the next most responsible person around in a healthy relationship. He must be doing something right for Indie to like him that much.
I inhale slowly. “She offered a no-string-attached relationship. She knows I’ve never had sex before and offered to…teach me. Said she’s in a tight spot with her writing, and I’m her muse.”
Jem leans back, his expression thoughtful. “Definitely not something you hear every day.”
I run a hand through my hair. “And she’s making it seem like I’m doing her some huge favor.”
Jem’s brows furrow. “You like her,” he says slowly.
I hesitate, then sigh. “I’ve always been attracted to her. There’s something about her that just... draws me in.”
“And you agreed?” he asks. “To no strings attached?”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
“Why?”
“If it’s the only way I can have her,” I say, “I’ll take it.”
I don’t want to hurt her, and I feel like. I know it the exact moment Jem gives me a worried look. I’ve walked right into a landmine.
Someone’s going to get hurt, and the best-case scenario is that it’s me.
I just need to figure out some things.
Fast.
I soap off the car grime from my hands. Slump into a chair. Scroll through my phone, then download a bunch of “Sex for Dummies” books—written by women. I’ve read some of the “romantic” stuff men write. Shit’s horrific.
I got some coursework to cover, but I figure I can fit in at least one of these books a day.
If I’m going to do this, I’m going all in.
YOU ARE READING
A Natural Disaster
RomanceA master of heartbreak, Rhia Singh is a fire few can handle. She desperately wants to establish herself as an author, but more than anything, she wants to make her parents proud. Despite his devastatingly good looks, Logan de Santos is afraid of in...
