Scarred: A New Adult Romance (The Anderson Brothers Series Book 1) (10 page)

Her
eyebrows rise. “I just wanted to get to know you. Isn’t that what people do on
first dates?”

Hearing
her say “date” makes me feel even shittier that I fucked it up. “I guess. I’m a
complicated guy, and I didn’t want to run you off. But it seems all I managed
to do was make things worse. I’m sorry, Denise. I really am.”

She
stares at me as if I’m crazy. Maybe I am.

I
take a deep breath. “I know it’s only been a few days, but I … I like you,
Denise. And I want you to be happy. You’re really beautiful, nice, smart, and
hell, you like motorcycles.” I manage to get a hint of a smile out of her with
that last bit. “Anyway, I don’t want some stupid guy to take advantage of you.”

She
scoffs. “You sound like my father.”

Ouch.
“Well, can you blame him?”

“No,
but sometimes he acts like I’m going to spread my legs to the world. It’s
annoying.”

“I
think your dad just wants the best for you, that’s all.”

Her
face softens slightly. “Look, Dominick. I’ll be all right. Does this have
something to do with last night?”

“What?”
I blink. “No.”

“You’re
a terrible liar.”

I
sigh. “Okay. Maybe a
little
. Should I
be asking who that guy William was?”

Her
expression remains unchanged. “He’s a … a friend from high school. I haven’t
seen him in five years. We were going out back then, but then he moved to
Chicago, and … ”

The
left side of my mouth twitches.
Friend.
I’m
pretty sure she means “boyfriend.” But I don’t care who the hell he is. This
isn’t high school anymore. “Right, so about last night. I’m sorry. I should’ve
called to see if you wanted to come to the club with me.”

Denise
shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. It was girls’ night out.”

Girls’ night out, huh.
Does she think I forgot
about Prettyboy that quickly? “Still, I mean. I would like to get to know you
more. You wanna ride with me down to Cougar Mountain on Wednesday?”

Her
perfect, beautiful smile returns. It makes me glow inside. I can never get
enough of it. “I’d love to, but … ” Her expression shifts abruptly, and she looks
at me the same way she did when I took her home from dinner Saturday night.
Guilt. Regret.

“‘But’?”
I ask.

Denise
bites her bottom lip and stares straight at me. I can tell she’s wrestling with
something in her mind. Something big. There’s a hint of fear in her eyes.
Doubt. “What do you do when you’re faced with the past again?”

I
swallow.
The past.
Does she mean
William? That’s an odd question to ask, but a question that I’m no stranger to.
I wish I could forget about the past. The hurt. I think carefully about my
response. Her question sounds almost like a cry for help. I’ve asked that
question of Kevin so many times before. And he’s always answered the same
thing:
You gotta fight to win, because
the past will always try to drag you down.

“What
do I do?” I say. “I keep reminding myself that the past doesn’t matter. The
past’ll always try to drag me down. But I have to fight through it. Fight to
win.” I look at her, concerned. The question is on the tip of my tongue. “Is everything
okay with you?”

She
nods without hesitation. “Yeah. I’m just … stressed about how I did on my world
literature test today.”

Bullshit.

But
despite how “stressed” she’s really feeling, her face manages to brighten
again. My heart beats faster, pounding away in my chest. I just want to hold
her. Comfort her.

Kiss
her.

I
look down to her hands in her lap. “I’m sure you did fine on your test,” I say
softly. Then I slowly place my hand atop one of hers.

She
doesn’t appear fazed by my gesture.
Progress.

She
looks down at our hands and places her other hand on top of mine. I hold my
breath. Her hands are smooth and warm.

“I’ll
be okay, Dominick. I appreciate everything you’ve done, fixing my car, and taking
me to dinner and stuff. You’re a cool guy. Way different from other guys I’ve
met.”

I
beam. “Thanks. I try. Hey, I like you, Denise. A lot. I said that already,
didn’t I?” I chuckle softly. “I hope that maybe, you know, we can make
something work.”

“Maybe.”
she says with a bit of uncertainty.

I
give her hand a brief, gentle squeeze. William pops into my head. Fuck him and
his shitty-ass car and everything else he’s probably got to impress her with. I
stare at her face, cast into shadow by the shade trees. She stares back
intently at me. I gaze longingly at her full, glossy, peach-tinted lips.
What I wouldn’t give to kiss them. To
taste her.

Slowly,
I pull back my hand.
No, not now.

“I
need to go,” she says in almost a whisper, her face flustered.
I wonder what’s going through her mind right
now?

“Yeah,”
I say breathily. I watch her retrieve her world literature book and re-sling
her bag crosswise over her chest. “Since you’re busy Wednesday, do you wanna do
something on Thursday?” I ask.

She
rises from the bench and turns to leave. “I … I don’t know yet.”

“Right,”
I mutter. “Sorry, I just realized it’s been longer than five minutes.”

She
looks over her shoulder and, to my surprise and relief, smiles. Maybe she’s not
too upset with me. “It’s okay. I’ll see you later.”

I
watch her walk away. She may not do ballet anymore, but she still has a gentle,
flowing dancer’s gait. It’s not until she disappears into a crowd of students
that I finally exhale.
Bye, Denise.

My
back pocket vibrates, and I’m shaken back into reality.
Oh yeah. Work.
I swipe the phone out and check for messages.

Shit.
It’s Larry.

FEW MINUTS LATE MY
ASS!!! WHER TEH HELL RU BOY!!!!!!

Cringing,
I text a quick
omw
as I bolt toward
the lot where my bike is parked.

Chapter 10

I arrive at Frank’s later than I meant to, but I don’t
see Larry. Probably went to take a piss. As I walk toward the whiteboard
hanging on the wall in bay one, the office’s side door suddenly swings open and
Frank comes storming out.

“You’re
late. What the hell, Dominick? Oversleep? Wanna end up like Sam, too? Don’t
think for a minute I won’t hesitate to get your ass replaced!”

I
nod, frowning. “It won’t happen again, man. I swear.” Frank’s a bastard most of
the time, but this time his anger is justified. I’m sure Larry is plenty pissed
at me, too. Frank returns to the office and slams the door behind him. Checking
the whiteboard, I see I’m assigned a clutch replacement job. Pretty
complicated, at that. It must be Frank’s doing.

The
sports car is up on the lift in bay two, and Nate is already working on it.
Sighing, I approach him.

“Yo,
Nate. I got this,” I say, as he removes a bolt from one of the drive shafts.

Nate
casts me an annoyed but relieved look. “It’s about time. Where the hell were
you?”

“Out,”
I say, and leave it at that. “But I’m here now, right? So you can take a
break.”

Nate
rolls his eyes. “Right. Fuck up in front of the new guy, will you?” He shoves
the air wrench at me.

I
blink.
New guy?
But before I can ask
about it, Nate walks away.

Has Frank found someone already?
I look
toward the office. Larry might be in there, too.

“I’m
tellin’ you, man, I tapped some of that at the party last night.” Paul says
from the first bay.

I
glance over to the SUV on the lift, where Paul’s busy setting the wheels.

Marissa?
How was she?” Nate asks, joining him, and shouting over the whine of the
wrench.

Paul
whistles. “Sweet mother of God, she’s amazing. She gets all kinky when she’s
drunk.”

The
two of them laugh, and I tune out the rest of their conversation. Usual shop
buzz.

The
office’s side door creaks open, but I don’t bother turning away from my work.
I’m in deep shit as it is for being late. I might as well not add to it by
idling around.

“ … yeah,
I’m pretty good at poker, but an ace at darts—at least, that’s what my girl
says.”

I
freeze.
That voice.

“No
shit?” Paul guffaws. “Man, don’t you know I’m the
king
of darts?”

I
peer over to bay one. Nate, Paul, and another guy stand on the other side of
the lifted car, only visible from their torsos down.

“We’ll
have to see about that,” the familiar-sounding guy says, then laughs.

No … It can’t be.

The
office door opens again, and a set of workpant-covered legs approach the group.

“All
right, you guys,” Larry says, then pauses. “Dominick! Get over here!”

I
jump, and my heart starts pounding. I set down the wrench and hustle over to
the group. Rounding the back of the SUV, I halt. All eyes are drawn to me,
including the new guy’s, who looks more amused than anything.

William.

Fuck
me.

“If
you all haven’t formally met yet, this is William Porter,” Larry says with a
wave of his hand. “Today’s his first day on the job, so make him feel welcome.”

I
watch Nate and Paul shake his hand, but I remain where I am.
No, he can’t be working here. Why the fuck
is he working here?

“The
quiet one over there is Dominick,” Larry says, gesturing to me.

William
strokes his goatee. “Oh yeah, it
is
Dominick. What’s up?”

Larry
lifts an eyebrow. “You two know each other?”

“You
could say that,” I say, holding back a sneer.

William
laughs. “Yeah, ran into him at the club last night.”

Larry
crosses his arms and nods slowly, giving me one of those calculating looks as
if he knows something’s up.

William
steps forward and extends his hand. “Well, good to meet you again, bro.”

I
exhale through my nose.
The feeling’s
mutual, asshole.
For now, I swallow my pride and paint on a smile that
would convince even Larry. “Yeah, you, too,” I say, shaking his hand. My hand
is getting crushed in his. Damn, he’s got a strong grip, but nowhere near as
strong as Larry’s. Squeezing back, I match his strength as best I can, but all
he does is smirk as he finally lets go.

“All
right. Now that the intros are done, get back to work.” Larry thumbs at my car.
“William, since you and Dominick seem to know each other, I’m putting you two
together, so Dominick can fill you in on how we do things around here.”

William
nods. “Sure thing.”

Watching
Larry disappear back into the office, I grit my teeth. Was Larry being
sarcastic? I guess this is my punishment for being late.

Looking
sideways at William, I frown. Why does God hate me right now? Of all the
mechanics’ shops in Seattle, William had to choose this one. Sighing, I put on
my poker face as I walk back to the car.

“Damn,
can’t believe I’d run into you again,” William says, following me. “I mean what
are the odds?”

Against me, apparently.

“Small
world, isn’t it?” he says.

I
scowl. “
Cramped
is more like it.” I
grab for my air wrench but end up picking up a drill instead. Growling, I toss
the tool aside and pick up the correct one. Damn it, I can’t even concentrate.

William
looks at me and laughs. Fucking stupid laugh.

“What’s
so damn funny?” I snap, whipping my head back around to look at him.

He
stops laughing and holds his hands up in surrender. “Nothin’, man. Nothin’.”

“Good,”
I say, removing the final bolt holding the drive shaft. I toss a drain pan
underneath the car. “Pop that bolt and get that shit drained.”

He
looks at me, amused, then steps under the car and begins fiddling with the
bolt. “Gotta say, man. I never thought in a million years you were a mechanic.”

My
left eye twitches. What was that supposed to mean? “Yeah, you don’t look so
mechanically savvy yourself either, Pret—William.”

William
catches the bolt in his palm and holds the drain pan up just as amber-colored
fluid pours steadily out of the car. He slowly sets the pan back on the ground
while the fluid continues draining. “I worked in a shop in Chicago back in high
school,” he says, apparently not noticing my slip.

“Yeah?
So how’d you end up here?”

William
steps out from under the car. “Well, I’m a Seattleite, but I had to move with
my parents to Chicago when I was a junior in high school. I went to Chicago
State for about a year, then transferred to UDub this semester.”

The
fact that we go to the same school makes me cringe. “Oh, cool,” I say with
little enthusiasm. “I go there, too. Sophomore.”

“Heh.
So am I. Truth is, my high school sweetheart’s still here.”

I
roll my tongue around in my cheek.

“She’s
still as amazing as I remembered her. Hasn’t changed one bit. That look on her
face when I surprised her last night at the club was priceless.”

“So
were you two still talking after you left Seattle?” I ask.

“At
first, but then it got harder. I mean, long distance relationships suck, you
know?”

No,
I don’t really know, but I’ve heard the horror stories. I check to see if the
fluid has completely drained. “So it’s been a while since you’ve seen her? I
would think she’s forgotten about you by now.”

He
chuckles. “Fuck no, she didn’t forget about me. She kissed the shit out of me,
actually. That girl’s got amazing lips.”

I
narrow my eyes. I’d like to
punch
the
shit out of him. I’ve got an amazing left hook.

“So,
how do
you
know her?”

His
question irks me. It’s none of his fucking business how I know her. “I see her
around campus sometime.”