Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
APRIL
“I heard you’re dating Chance McLanely.”
I stop my inspection of the oxygen sensor and glare a hole at the rhinestone pink sneakers jutting beneath the car. “Don’t start. I’ve had enough of that today.”
“Do tell.”
I push the creeper out into the open. Both me and the tool go skidding and the garage’s bright white ceiling comes into view.
Lying flat, I stare up at my best friend. “For starters, I’ve been invited to group chats I didn’t know existed.”
Rebel drops to her haunches, a mischievous grin on her face. “Oh?”
“Did you know there’s a Sexiest Men Alive society? Because I didn’t. Not until I became the newest member of their group chat and they creepily asked if I could sell them shirtless pictures of Chance McLanely.”
“Sexiest Men Alive society? Now that sounds like fun.” Rebel grins.
I hand over my phone. “It’s not fun to know a ton of strangers have your phone number.”
“Whoa, that’s a lot of messages.” Her eyes widen. “They’re all strangers?”
“Some of them. Some are people I haven’t talked to since high school who suddenly want to grab a coffee.”
“That’s… surreal.”
“Surreal’s not the word I would choose. Sickening? Disappointing? Fake as a fern in the dentist’s office?”
Rebel laughs in her restrained, lady-like way. “That last one would count as a sentence, not a word, no?”
“Don’t lecture me. I’m not done venting.”
Rebel makes a go-ahead gesture.
“Everyone has unanimously decided that I—an ordinary woman from an ordinary town—am extremely important. Not because of all my engine repair certifications, or because I have the monetary equivalent of a college degree in diagnostic tools. Nope, it’s all because of a stupid article about a stupid hockey player that a stupid journalist didn’t even bother to fact check!”
“Now, why would you lump me in with the stupid journalist and his stupid article?” A voice that does not belong to Rebel bounces around our empty garage.
I gasp and shoot to my feet. In my rush, I send the creeper skidding straight at the man in the doorway. He easily stops it with his foot and snaps it up with the toe of his sneakers.
“Cool.” Chance inspects the creeper. “What’s this? A skateboard?”
“What are you doing here?” I gape.
He sets the creeper down and walks deeper into the shop. Immediately, his large presence sucks the air out of the room and makes everything feel smaller.
My eyes slide down his frame like I’m following the lines of a wiring diagram for a 1996 Chevy. He’s wearing a grey hoodie with his number and last name on the back. The fabric hugs his broad shoulders. Faded blue jeans go on and on until they reach his sneakers.
It is very unfair that the hoodie-jeans combo—which adds at least thirty pounds and an extra layer of ‘frump’ to my body—is dazzling on Chance.
“I came to see you,” he says with a grin that shows nothing of our tense goodbye yesterday at the hotel parking lot.
“Now’s not a good time,” I say harshly, moving around to the other side of the car.
Rebel flashes me a ‘what’s up with you?’ look and then approaches Chance with one of her killer smiles. “Hey, I’m Rebel, April’s best friend and a mechanic here at The Pink Garage.”
“Hey.” Chance gives her hand a good shake, his eyes darting to me.
I’m tapping on my scanner, trying not to make it obvious that I’m watching him, but inside I’m holding my breath, waiting for him to take a really good look at Rebel and do what every guy who’s come to our shop does—fall instantly for her.
I need to see the moment it happens. Because then, I can squash the tiny excitement that sprang to life at the sight of him.
“How did you hear about our shop?” Rebel asks, tucking her long, luscious hair behind her ear.
Any minute now.
“Oh, uh. I picked this up in April’s car.” He unfolds the pink flyer that sailed out of my car. Once again, his gaze darts to me.
Any minute, he’s going to really pay attention to Rebel and bam!
“You were in April’s car yesterday?” My best friend swerves to me, both eyebrows arched in a pointed question.
“She gave me a ride after my car broke down at the stadium.”
“The stadium?” Rebel’s steady tone reminds me of a parent who already knows her child is lying but wants to test how far they’ll go with it. “And why were you at the stadium yesterday in your pick-up instead of the company car, April?”
I hurry over to Chance. “Let’s talk outside.”
“Sure.” He seems confused but he lets me prod him out the door.
“Secrets among friends is bad manners!” Rebel yells after me.
“He’s not my friend!” I yell back.
“Ouch,” Chance says. “Did yesterday mean nothing to you?” He slams his fist against his chest in a melodramatic fashion. “Do you offer your passenger seat to every guy who can’t find their engine?”
My lips twitch, but I force myself not to laugh. “Why are you here?”
“To check on you. But I think I can already piece together how well you’re taking this.”
“I know you’re used to it, but for me, all this attention is…”
“Inconvenient?”
“Unwelcome.”
“It’s annoying for sure,” he agrees. “But it sounded like you were angry.”
“Because the rumors aren’t true. Wouldn’t you be angry if the whole world believed a lie?”
His eyes dart away for a second. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
I purse my lips. “You must be even more upset than I am. If you need my statement to clear things up, the answer is yes. I’ll talk to whoever I need to and tell them I am absolutely, positively not dating Chance McLanely.”
“Actually…”
“I’d tell them even if you were the last man on earth, it wouldn’t happen.”
He grimaces. “That won’t be…”
“I’d tell them you and I have nothing in common and that we find it offensive to be associated together. I’m sure they’d back off.”
“April!” He grabs my shoulders.
I startle, my heart clamoring to my throat as he stares desperately into my eyes with those ocean blue irises.
“I don’t find it offensive to be associated with you.”
Warning! Jello-knees en-route!
“And I don’t want to clear things up,” Chance says.
I stagger back. “W-what do you mean?”
“I mean.” Chance licks his lips. “I want to fake it with you.”
My brain misfires and cuts out everything between the ‘I want’ and the ‘you’. So it takes me half a beat longer to get angry.
“I’m sorry. What?”
He opens his hands as if to explain and then wipes them against the side of his pants. “So… I can see you’re not taking this well.”
“How am I supposed to take this?” I screech.
“My agent called me last night. And he told me that the fastest way to get back where I belong is to fix my reputation.”
“Your reputation has nothing to do with me.”
“Us being together, you and me,” he points between the two of us, “the internet loves it. Brands and sponsors love it. The fans love it.”
“ I don’t love it.”
He jogs in front of me when I start to stalk away. “Wait, I’m not expecting you to do this for free.”
“I cannot be bought.” I punch my finger into his chest. “Don’t you dare fling money at me.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
Moving around him, I stomp toward the shop again.
Again, he intercepts me. “If we work together—” He holds his hands up in surrender when I glare at him. “Big if, it wouldn’t be on an employee-employer basis. We’d be partners. You know what a brand sponsorship is, right? I’d be the Pink Garage’s ambassador.”
“Why would we want you as our ambassador when no one else does?” I point out.
He flinches and I feel sorry for being so upfront. Then I push those feelings away and remind myself that he started this war by making such a ridiculous request in the first place.
“I may not have the same influence as I did before, but I can definitely point more attention your way,” Chance explains. “You said you were competing with the Kinseys, right? I’d be your secret weapon.”
He’d be a ticking time bomb.
“I’m not interested.”
“ I am ,” my sister’s voice sounds behind me.
Not surprisingly, Rebel is blatantly eavesdropping on us but I’m surprised to see my sister there too.
“May, when did you get here?” I hiss.
“A few minutes ago. But you were too busy arguing to notice.”
Rebel grins at me. “As an equal partner in this business, I vote yes to Chance being our ambassador too. A disgraced hockey player is better than no one.”
“Thanks?” Chance scratches the back of his head.
“What’d you have to lose, big sis?” May coos. “Didn’t you say you’d do anything to beat the Kinseys?”
Eyes narrowing, I glower at both May and Rebel.
Neither of them back down.
Chance starts looking hopeful.
With a giant sigh, I point to the bicycle that’s propped against the side of the garage. “Time out, you two. Let’s talk in private.”
“What’s there to talk about?” May tilts her head cheekily. “I say hand me a contract.”
Rebel nods eagerly.
Steam coming out of my ears, I stalk toward my sister and best friend, wondering when the two closest people to me turned into traitors.