Eventually, the ride to the mechanic shop came to an end, and we pulled into Mickey’s parking lot. There were a few cars off to the side that looked like they hadn’t started in probably decades. The actual body shop was comprised of the main office and one massive garage with two bay doors.
My dad pulled into one of the spots in the parking lot and cut the engine. I focused on the office part of Mickey’s, but I heard Dad rustling around before he opened the driver side door.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, and I glanced over at him and nodded.
I honestly didn’t know why I wanted to come with him. It wasn’t like I knew anything about cars or would be much help in this instance, but I guess I just assumed staying at home would only have me thinking about Aiden and texting him more. That was the last thing I needed to do. I certainly didn’t want to make an ass out of myself. But the car ride hadn’t dimmed my thoughts of him in the slightest.
I pulled out my phone and opened up the messages, looking down at the text he’d sent me hours ago in reply to mine.
Aiden: Glad I was able to help.
I’d regretted texting him as soon as I’d hit Send. I didn’t want to seem overly eager, but his response to me was lackluster at best.
I rested my head back on the seat and closed my eyes for a minute, the heavy weight of my phone on my lap seeming even more pronounced. I felt like an idiot. Why did I have to text him so soon after he dropped me off? I seemed desperate, clingy. Why had I offered to repay the favor like I was some kind of thirsty bitch? God, he probably thought I was weird.
I opened my eyes and looked around. I didn’t want to just sit in the car, not when I just kept repaying how stupid I probably seemed to Aiden. I got out and shut the door, heading toward the main office. I could see my dad in front of the counter, talking with one of the mechanics.
But before I got to the door, the deep rumble of a car had an immediate, instantaneous reaction in me. My heart started racing, and tingles moved throughout my whole body. I recognized that sound, and I found myself stopping in the middle of the parking lot and looking over my shoulder. I watched as Aiden’s Pontiac Firebird pulled into a parking spot before he cut the engine. I could hear the low sound of music coming from the car before all went silent and he climbed out.
I should have moved, hid from him so this didn’t become even more awkward. But I found myself rooted to the spot. He had his focus on the ground, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans as he headed toward the mechanic shop.
His pants were worn and stained, presumably from grease. The white shirt he wore was in the same condition. Did he work here?
He hadn’t seen me yet, although he was coming right toward me.
My heart was thundering, my palms sweating.
Move. He hasn’t seen you yet. You can still race back to the car and lock yourself in there.
And I was just about to do that when he lifted his head and our gazes locked.
I saw his step falter for a split second, saw the surprise on his face, before he righted himself and cleared his expression.
I smiled one of those tight-lipped, awkward ones and lifted my hand in an equally weird manner as I waved.
Oh my God. I was making this worse as I probably looked like a spastic freak with the grin I sported and how I waved my hand a little too quickly.
“Hey,” I said and was pretty proud of myself for sounding calm and not at all like a spaz.
“Hi.” His voice was tight, and I felt myself deflate.
“My car’s here. I came with my dad to see about getting it fixed.” I twisted my hands together. Why was I so nervous?
Oh… because I brought up repaying the favor and he totally ignored that part, because he’s obviously not interested in furthering a friendly relationship with me.
“That’s why I’m here. I’m not like… following you or anything. I didn’t even know you work here.” I looked at his clothes. “Do you work here? God, sorry if you don’t and I’m just assuming.” I was a rambling mess and felt my face heat in embarrassment.
I’m not following you?
Do you work here?
Dammit, I was making a total idiot out of myself. Instead of saying anything else—because Aiden just stood there staring at me, probably thinking I was certifiable, gauging by the confused look on his face—I excused myself and started making my way toward my dad’s car.
“Harlow?” he called, and I stopped and looked over my shoulder. He had a small smile on his face, lifted his hand to run it over the back of his head, and took a step toward me.
I faced him fully, my heart in my throat, willing my face to not be as red as it felt. I licked my lips, my mouth feeling dry, forcing myself not to say anything else, not to put my foot in my mouth.
“I do work here,” he finally said, flashing me a straight, white-toothed grin. “I’ll probably be the one working on your car. Small world, huh?”
I smiled in returned and nodded, unsure what to say, unsure if I should say anything at all. “Thank you again,” I said and just shook my head slowly, wondering how many times in a day I could tell him that. I lifted my hand, waved, and said, “See you later.” And then I turned around and started heading back toward the car, my jaw clenched and my hands curled tightly at my sides.
Please don’t trip. Please don’t fall flat on your face and make this even worse.
I could feel him watching me walk away and glanced over my shoulder to see him still looking at me a second before he caught himself and lifted his hand in a wave. He made his way inside, and I still stood there as he disappeared behind the glass door, wondering how any of this would play out.
The truth was, because of Aiden’s lack of interest, he just made my curiosity in him grow tenfold.
Chapter Seven
Aiden
After that exchange, Harlow probably thought I was a major asshole.
I wanted to address the text, or my lack thereof. I’d wanted to tell her I wanted to see her again, that I wanted to take her out and hang out. But I froze, telling myself I had this last year of school to get through and focus on. Seemed easy enough for someone who didn’t have the shit school history like I did, one that was filled with fights, detentions, and suspensions.
I hadn’t actually meant to grow any kind of relationship with Harlow, not as friends, and certainly not as more than that. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I had other things on my plate that I should focus on.
But then I’d seen her at Mickey’s, and it was like kismet, like fate had our paths cross all over again. Or maybe it was just because Mickey’s was the closest body shop to the school?
Either way, I’d like to think it was the former, because forgetting about her didn’t feel right and something I knew I wouldn’t be able to do, even if that was what was best for everyone.
I wasn’t the type of guy she was probably used to hanging out with, those preppy jocks with money, who said sweet things to have them dropping their panties.
But I didn’t feel like I was a novelty to her.
I felt like I was someone.
Several days later
I’d told myself I was doing the right thing by keeping a wide berth from Harlow. I wouldn’t let myself fall any more than I had for her. But it seemed like telling myself that just made me want her even more.