Chapter 18 #2
How can I pass up that invitation to explain? “Well, you two are fraternal twins, but even identical twins can have different personalities. Based on everything I know about you two so far, Wilder must’ve either been the quarterback or the goofball that the girls all wanted to date.”
“He never loved football, but you’re right on the second count. What about me?”
I study him, the neutral expression he wears as he waits for me to finish.
“You lived in his shadow. Not because he forced you there, but because you preferred it. Wilder could do all the socializing while you observed everyone. I’m betting you tried the same extracurriculars for a bit, then like you said, you took shop and you found yourself.
Or at least, a piece of what makes Hayes, Hayes. ”
Silence stretches between us, and for a heartbeat, I’m worried I’ve offended him, but the corners of his lips kick up.
“I tried drawing.” He drinks a big gulp of water.
“How did that go?”
He chuckles. “Not well. Wilder definitely got all the creative skills.”
“Maybe, or maybe yours came in a different form. Restoring cars takes creativity.”
“I guess you’re right.” He shrugs. “Wilder worries that other people look down on him because he didn’t go to college, but sometimes I think he got it right. He knew what his passion was early on, and he went for it. He wasn’t going to let student loans hold him back.”
I watch him take another spoonful of soup. “What about Hayes? What does Hayes worry about?”
Clearing his throat, he sets the utensil down. “That no one will ever really notice me.”
Reaching across the table, I link my hand with his. “I notice you.”
His answering grin is warm and gentle. “I know, vixen.” He holds my hand while he finishes eating, which is a little funny, considering he only has one to hold the sandwich with, but he manages. He finishes with a soft exhale. “Thank you for feeding me.”
“You’re welcome. Are you ready to go home?”
He shakes his head. “I have one more thing to do, and I need your help.”
“You do?”
“Yup.”
We clean up and discard the trash before heading back into the garage. Hayes sets the reusable shopping bag aside and gestures toward the thing he’d been lying on. “Lie on the creeper.”
“The creeper?” My eyebrows are nearly at my hairline. “That’s such a weird name.”
“It’s kind of funny.” He makes a hurry-up gesture.
“Okay,” I say slowly, taking a seat and carefully lying down. The cushion is surprisingly supportive, though I can still feel the metal frame through it. This can’t be comfortable to work on for hours on end.
“Good. Now take this.” He hands me a ratchet.
“I don’t know if I should.” I glance at the car. “I don’t want to mess it up.”
“Trust me, you won’t. I’m going to push you under. Ready?”
Absolutely not. “Uh, sure.”
The expression he’s wearing tells me he senses exactly how uncertain I am. “You’ll be okay. I’m here with you. As soon as you’re under, I’ll get on the other creeper.”
“All right.” Chewing on my cheek, I try not to panic as he wheels me under the vehicle that’s probably heavy enough to crush me. Hayes wouldn’t put me under it if he thought it was unsafe. I cling to that knowledge while I wait for him to join me.
The wheels of his creeper whir as he glides under with practiced ease. “Okay?”
I nod. “Okay.” I adore him for checking in.
Hayes shows me what he wants me to work on, guiding my hand to the right spot, and watches me work the ratchet.
There are four bolts to tighten—tightening what, I have not a clue—and once the first is secure, I move on to the second with a touch of a grin and confidence surging through me.
Sure, it’s only a ratchet, but I’ve never so much as touched a tool. Mother never allowed it.
Hayes’s attention is warm on my face, but I furrow my brow and lock in, finishing the task as quickly as I can while still ensuring I do quality work. Maybe he regrets asking me to help? Once I finish, I lower the ratchet and roll my neck to the side, my gaze meeting his.
“I think I’m done.”
His green irises are a storm of emotions. The way he watches me is the way I’ve seen other packs watch their omega. As if I’m the answer to the world’s toughest equation. Butterflies erupt in my belly.
“Hayes—”
He lifts off his creeper as much as he can, reaching for me.
The warmth from his body seeps into mine as his palm settles on the side of my face.
He draws me toward him, and I follow his lead, falling into his control as he kisses me, lips plush and gentle.
Beneath this car, we have our own secret little world, and part of me wants to stay here and never come out if it means he’ll kiss me like this.
His purr rumbles between us, and he breaks away, resting his forehead against mine. “Thanks for noticing me.”
My heart squeezes. How could I not?
As he pulls back, a smile steals away his serious expression.
“What?”
“You have some grease on your cheek.”
“Are you going to take care of me?”
He nods. “Always, omega. I’ll always take care of you.”
And I think I melt. Romance was always such an elusive thing, but this pack is showing me a heck of a lot more than how to be a good omega. They’re helping me experience the very thing most omegas would kill for. A swoon-worthy love story.