Unsteady (The Torqued Trilogy Book 1) (14 page)

AN HOUR LATER, everyone in the shop has gone home for the day, and I’m closing the hood to the Celica in my stall getting ready to pull it out to the parking lot.

“I finished replacing that gasket,” I tell Red, wiping my hands clean on a shop rag. I’m covered head-to-toe in dirt and grease and am probably a laughable site. “Anything else?”

He raises his head, looks at me and then turns away, his eyes focused on his quick hands in front of him. “Nope. See you tomorrow. We open at eight. Don’t be late.”

I’m just about to thank him for giving me a chance when he walks away from me.

“You’re welcome,” I utter just as he’s walking away.

I watch his footsteps falter, and the muscles in his shoulders tighten. I hit a nerve. He stops but doesn’t turn around. “And Lenny, don’t wear those shorts tomorrow.”

As I stand there watching him walk away from me, I huff out the breath I’m holding and remind myself I know what the fuck I’m doing. I’m not that girl who sits in silence and takes crap. I wasted a year doing that, and I’m done with it.

But even with my new resolve I can’t help but think maybe this is too much. Maybe I should just find something else. This dude hates me.

No. Don’t think that way.

To hell with maybe. I’ve spent my life working on cars, and there’s not a chance in hell I’ll let some male chauvinistic pig run me off now. Fuck him.

Well, a girl can dream.

LUCKILY FOR ME Lebanon has a pretty nice travel stop not too far from the shop. I’m starving. Those tacos didn’t cut it, but before I head out in search of something to eat, I
need
to wash this day off of me.

I park my bronco outside the women’s restroom and head straight for the shower. Setting the water to scalding, despite the heat outside I get goose bumps waiting for it to heat up. Once under the spray, my shoulders relax. I take my time washing my hair enjoying the sensation of washing away not only the grime from today, but also all the tension throughout the day.

Unfortunately, my time alone is interrupted by some chick standing outside my shower stall, intently watching me, and hacking up her goddamn lung. Who coughs that much and doesn’t need to be on a ventilator?

“What are you doing?”

She eyes me up and down. “I’m waiting for the shower.”

I can see why she needs to shower. She has more dirt on her than me, and her urine-colored hair is matted to the side of her head in what appears to be a poor or natural attempt at dreadlocks. “Well then, wait.” I rip the small curtain closed, though I know for sure she can see me through it. Creepy old hag. “Don’t spy on me.”

“Can I join you?”

“Why?”

“I could wash your—”

Before she can finish her words, I rip the flimsy excuse for a curtain back open, completely this time so she sees me naked, which is a
horrible
idea. “No, you can’t fucking join me. Give me five minutes and you can have the shower to yourself.”

The thing is, she doesn’t leave. She fucking stands there watching me even after I close the curtain.

I open it again. “Seriously, what are you waiting for?”

“The shower.” And then she eyes my tattoo down my side. “I like your ink.”

“I’ll be done in a minute.”

Butch lady looks down at my clothes on the bench beside her. “Can I have your shorts?”

I eye her curvy figure under her oversized Mickey T-shirt. “I don’t think they would fit you.”

She holds up my black lace thong panties. My fucking underwear. “Can I have these?”

I sigh, the shower spray hitting my face as I wipe away the water. “Again, I don’t think they’d fit you.”

She smiles, and I wish she wouldn’t. It’s scary, and I’m pretty positive she’s never ever brushed her teeth. “I wasn’t planning on wearing them.”

“Okay.” I rip the curtain closed and resume my shower. “Get the fuck out!”

Amazingly enough, she does but waits outside the bathroom. When I’m finished, I put the same clothes back on.

As I’m leaving, I toss my panties at Butch Lady eating fried chicken straight from the bone. I really do not want to know where the chicken came from. No way she had time to go and get that from somewhere and bring it back.

“Here, creepo. Enjoy.”

After Lenny leaves for the night, I flop down on the couch in the office trying to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. I want to stand up and watch her walk away, just so I have one more visual of her and those shorts for later. I don’t because my mom is in the office and I’ve spent the entire day with either an erection, or a semi. I need a break.

“How did everything go?” Mom asks, shuffling through paperwork. “Is she going to work out?”

“Shit… I don’t know.” I throw my arms up and let them flop back down on my knees. “If you’re asking if she can do it, yes. If you’re asking me if I want her here, I don’t know that either.”

“So what’s the problem?”

I raise an eyebrow. “You know damn well what the problem is.”

“Look, Red, I know what you went through with Nevaeh. She was taken from you in a way that was sudden and awful but sometimes it’s okay to be a man. You’ve done nothing but be a dad for the past two years. And you’re twenty-seven. Allow yourself to be a man. There’s nothing wrong with satisfying some needs.”

“Okay.” I stand, ready to run out of the office and dig out my cell phone to check the time. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“I remember this one time with your dad.”

“Nope. I’m leaving. Stop talking to me.”

Mom laughs, reaching for her purse. “If it weren’t for your dad and I getting it on, you wouldn’t be here, son.”

She has a point.

One I refuse to acknowledge.

We leave together, Mom’s laughter still ringing out as she heads to her car.

AS I PULL my 1974 Nova SS to a stop in front Elle’s place to pick up Nova, I can’t help but find it funny that it’s literally the end of the goddamn day, yet Elle is always wearing fresh makeup. My mind automatically drifts to Lenny and the way she looked with very little makeup on.

Elle’s standing at the door with a pair of jean shorts and her bikini top. “Hey, Red.”

“Hey.” I step forward but remain on the pebble stone pathway as opposed to their front porch. “Just came to get Nova.”

“Okay, come in and I’ll grab her.” She motions over her shoulder to the back. “They were playing on the slip n’ slide.”

“I’m kinda in a hurry. Can you just send her out?”

“Uh, sure.” Elle looks disappointed, but the last thing I need is to spend the next fifteen minutes inside while she tries to shove her tits in my face. I’m so wound up today I’d probably say something I shouldn’t, like, “Where’s your husband?” which would certainly be a justifiable question, but I also know I might upset her, and Nova’s already been kicked out of two other daycares for her attitude.

Wonder where she gets it from?

It takes Nova five minutes to change out of her bathing suit, and she comes around the corner with her long brown wet curls perched on top of her head in a bun. Her cheeks are splattered with fresh freckles, her eyes glimmering blue against the light pink shirt she’s wearing.

I smile at her, kneeling to her level when she runs to me. “Daddy!”

I love that sound. “Hey, darlin’. How was your day?”

“It was good. I went swimming!” Everything she says is exaggerated as I pick her up and carry her. Breathing in deeply, sunscreen and grass fill my senses.

Elle hands me a plastic bag with Nova’s wet bathing suit in it. “Here you go.”

Nova turns in my arms to look at Elle. “Why are you wearing lipstick?”

Elle laughs nervously, twirling a strand of her wet hair around her finger. “I wear it all the time.” Her eyes land on mine. “Keeps my lip moist.”

She should never use the word moist. Placing my hand over Nova’s mouth, I turn her before she can say anything else and mumble, “See you tomorrow.”

When we’re in the car, Nova jumps over the seat and into the back. “She’s so desperate.”

“No more hanging out with Raven,” I say, chuckling as I start the car.

“Uncle Rawley actually taught me that one.”

I meet her eyes in the mirror as she buckles her car seat. “Do you even know what desperate means?”

She shrugs. “I think it means putting on lipstick right when my daddy arrives.”

She’s too smart for her own good.

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” There’s no way I want to cook tonight. Though I don’t cook much anyway and when I do, it’s easy stuff like steaks or chicken. Shit you can’t fuck up on the grill.

“McDonald’s.”

“No.”

She pushes out her bottom lip. “We never do anything I want.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The only other thing Nova will willingly eat besides chicken nuggets is pizza. “How about pizza?”

“Okay!”

There’s a small pizza shop down the street from our house. When Nevaeh was pregnant with Nova, I made frequent trips here, which is probably why Nova likes pizza so much. The moment we’re inside, Nova wants quarters for the games, though she has no clue how to play any of them.

I dig four quarters out of my pocket and hand them to her as I approach the counter. She heads in the other direction leaving me alone with the kid behind the counter. “What’ll it be tonight, Red?”

I stare up at the black chalkboard with the combinations written in white chalk. “Can I get a large cheese pizza with pepperoni and pineapple on one side and just cheese on the other?”

The kid writes down the order and rings it in. “Want a pitcher of Bud, too?”

I nod and reach for my wallet in my back pocket. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Taking the red plastic number sign they give me, I head to a table in the corner near where Nova is yelling at the Pac-Man game to give her quarter back to her.

“Did you put the money in to play?”

“Yeah,” she replies, crossing her arms over her chest and kicking the side of the machine.

“Well, did you play?”

“Yeah, but it took my money.”

“If you play the game, it takes your money.”

She scowls at the game, and then me. “That’s dumb.”