Koda’s POV
The wrench slips and knuckle catches the edge of the manifold hard enough to split skin. Blood wells up and mixes with the grease already coating my hands. The pain doesn’t even register because it’s nothing compared to the noise in my head tonight.
Sai called an hour ago. Mavi’s due any day now.
My cousin, the one who could not pick a shirt nine months ago, sounded so goddamn happy it made my teeth hurt.
I’m not jealous. I’ve never been jealous.
I’m just suddenly and violently aware of the silence in my own garage after everyone else goes home.
“You’re bleeding.”
I don’t bother looking up, already knowing my Omega mechanic, Miko, is standing inches from me. “Observant.”
“You’re also installing that filter wrong.”
A frustrated growl slips from my lips as I glance up to see Miko leaning against the tool rack with his arms crossed, steel-toed boots planted wide, a streak of grease across his collarbone where his tank top has slipped.
His mouth sits in that infuriating half-smirk, the one that makes me want to fire him or fuck him, and the fact that I cannot decide which is exactly the problem.
“Fuck off, Miko. It’s not wrong.”
“It’s backwards, Koda. The intake flow is directional. There’s literally an arrow on the housing.”
I look back down at the filter. There is, in fact, an arrow on the housing. It is, in fact, backwards.
“I knew that.”
“Sure you did.” He pushes off the rack and crosses the garage like he owns the concrete under his feet.
He crouches beside me and reaches for the filter with hands that have no business being that close to mine.
His scent hits me first, cutting straight through the engine grease and exhaust fumes. “Just let me—”
“I don’t need you to fix it.”
“You need someone to fix something because you have been in here for four hours making a twenty-minute job take all night, and I’m not stupid enough to think this is about the car.”
“Back off, Miko.”
Miko’s scent is really fucking with me at this point, my instincts yelling at me to do something more than just exist in the same space. We’ve been doing this dance for nearly a year and I’m about ready to snap.
Miko just scoots closer and that is the whole goddamn problem with this Omega. He pushes and pushes and pushes until something gives, and tonight, after the race and the blood and Sai’s happy voice and the silence, I’m the thing that gives.
My hand closes around the pendant at his throat, locking around it as I use it to drag him upright. His back hits the wall hard enough to rattle the tool rack, wrenches clanging against hooks as a socket rolls off the shelf.
His eyes go wide for exactly one second. Then the smirk comes back, slower this time, a deviance to the expression on his face. “There he is.”
Another growl rumbles through my chest as I drag his mouth to mine, his lips opening just enough for me to thrust my tongue against his. His fingers dig into the front of my shirt and yank me closer, grease and all, the sound he makes against my tongue a dare.
Then he bites my lower lip hard enough to sting. “Took you long enough, Alpha.”