Chapter 3
Bailey
A crowd of students had formed outside my engineering ethics lecture hall. A tall guy stood at the front, raising his phone to take a photo of the door, so I couldn’t see what was going on.
A spiky-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Hurry the fuck up. Some of us want to get on with our lives already.”
“What’s up?” I asked her.
“Class is canceled. Our ethical professor took a personal day but left us homework to do. Instead of emailing us, he made us all show up here and write down the assignment. Asshole.”
It was a dick move, but I couldn’t stop the smile growing on my face. “No class today? Seriously?”
“Yeah. Don’t get too excited, though. We have to read a chapter and write an essay or some shit.” She raised her voice. “I don’t know because these people are taking all day!”
The tall dude skittered away, mumbling something about snarky bitches, and the next person in line stepped forward. Then the next. The third girl in the crowd paused to write all the details in a notebook instead of taking a photo.
“Fucking Christ,” the girl next to me muttered.
We were both at the back of the crowd, but I was so damn psyched to miss class that I didn’t mind waiting an extra five minutes to get the snapshot of the sign on the door.
The homework was going to kill me, but I’d think about that later. Right now? Freedom.
When I finally got to the front, I snapped a photo and sprinted back to the dorm, where I threw my dirty clothes into a duffel bag. My Camaro waited in the dorm’s parking lot.
I opened the back door and crammed my smelly laundry into the back. My car was stuffy from being closed up so long. I didn’t drive it to classes because parking was a bitch, and it’d been at least three weeks since I’d been back to Riverton.
I started the engine and rolled down the windows, inhaling as fresh air swept in. “All right, baby. Let’s go home.”
The engine purred to life, a healthy rumble that spoke to the months of work I’d put into rebuilding it last summer. I reversed out of the space and navigated the maze of roads that wound through campus, then the side streets that led to the highway.
When I finally hit the blacktop, I grinned.
Finally, the open road stretched out ahead.
I pressed my foot down on the accelerator, whooping as the wind whipped through my hair and the speedometer climbed to seventy, seventy-five, then eighty.
I forced myself not to push it any further, though this car could easily do a hundred.
Holden would kill me if I got a ticket. There would be lectures about safe driving and responsibility, and he was right, so I eased off the gas a little and stuck to the speed limit.
The drive home took two hours, fifteen minutes. It was short enough that I’d made the trip twice in two months, but I’d only ever done it on weekends, when the auto shop was closed.
Today, it was open, the garage bay doors up, so I pulled into a parking space out front and walked inside, relaxing when the scent of motor oil hit.
This was home.
“What’s up, suckas?” I called.
Flynn and Gray stood under a Subaru Outback that was suspended over their heads by our lift system. Gray felt along what looked to be the power steering line while Flynn shined a black light along the same path.
They were obviously looking for leaks. Those could be tricky to find because a leak could come from a lot of different places. The dye and UV should do the trick, as long as you were looking in the right spot.
My hands itched to get in there and solve the problem.
Gray dropped his hands and turned. “Hey, Bails, what are you doing here?”
I crossed my arms. “Nice greeting.”
He came toward me, opening his arms wide. “Bailey! How I’ve missed my baby brother! Give me hugs and kisses.”
Shit. Shoulda kept my mouth shut. I tried to duck away, but he wrapped his arms around me and hoisted me into the air, shaking me as I laughed.
His lips landed on my cheek, and I squirmed away. “Ew, stop, or I’ll tell Emory you kissed another man.”
He dropped me. “Gross. You’re my little brother.”
I wiped his saliva off my cheek. “Exactly, man. I only accept kisses from men who aren’t my brother.”
Sadly, Flynn did not sweep in to kiss me, seeing as how he wasn’t my brother. He kept his distance, smiling sheepishly. “Hey, Bailey. You here to save my ass?”
“Does it need saving?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m just struggling to find this darn leak. We thought it was going to be the transmission line, but it wasn’t. Now we’re going over the power steering with dye and UV, but still no dice.”
I nodded. “The leak is probably traveling from the point of origin. What’s the color?”
“Dark brown, but it’s not oil. I checked that first.” He frowned. “Unless I missed something.”
“My money’s on the brake line. Sometimes the fluid darkens with age.” I looked at the Subaru. “This is a pretty old car. That might be your culprit.”
“Damn. You’re so good at that,” Flynn said appreciatively.
My chest warmed, and I couldn’t help puffing up a little. “We still have to confirm the theory. I’m happy to help you check it out.”
More than happy. The minor repair I’d done outside that frat party had me jonesing for the real thing. I missed the dopamine hits from figuring out a mechanical problem and solving it. It made me feel smart, when pretty much nothing else in the world did.
Certainly not my textbooks or the calculus equations that turned my brain into a pretzel.
Maybe while I was here, I could get Shiloh to go over a few things with me.
I was still confused as fuck about some of the basics, and as we got further into the class, I kept running into the same damn roadblocks.
But I’d think about that later. Right now, a car repair beckoned. I walked under the car and looked up into its grimy guts.
“You don’t have to work while you’re here,” Gray told me.
Flynn’s smile sagged. “Yeah, of course not. This is your weekend.”
Before I could answer, Holden emerged from his office. “Well, thanks for telling me the college boy was home.”
Gray turned. “The college boy is home.”
I snickered. I’d missed my sarcastic brothers. “Hey, Holden. I’m home.”
He glanced at the clock. “What about class?”
I rolled my eyes. “Canceled today. I’m not playing hooky. Figured if I had a long weekend, I should get my ass down here and help out.”
Holden shook his head. “You don’t need to help.”
“No?” I looked over at Flynn, who looked worn out. “You saying you’re not busier with that county contract you got? And Flynn here doesn’t look exhausted?”
Flynn winced, shooting me a betrayed look. Well, shit, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Judging by the stress lines on his face, the guy needed a break, is all.
“None of that is your problem,” Holden said.
The hell it wasn’t.
“I’m still a Forrester Bro, am I not?”
“Your last name is Steele, not Forrester,” he said.
I glowered. “You know what I mean. Am I not still part of this family?”
“Of course you are,” he said. “But you need to focus on college. Your future is a lot bigger than this little shop.”
So he loved to say. I wasn’t so sure. I’d gone to Thurston University because Holden had his heart set on giving me all the opportunities he and my brothers missed out on.
He’d made the argument that I wouldn’t know what I really wanted until I got out there and tried new things—and maybe he was right about that. But so far, all those new things had just shown me that I really liked the old things.
Like my old job, in my old house, with my older brothers.
Not that I could just bail on school. Not when Holden and my brothers all contributed funds toward my education. Not when a local business had covered part of my tuition with a scholarship, and a state grant for foster kids covered the rest.
So many people had invested in me and my future. I couldn’t throw that away. But just thinking about it made it hard to breathe.
Holden was still talking about how I should go relax at home, do some laundry, watch some TV, or catch up with my high school friends. All things I would do this weekend.
But not yet.
“It’s my time off,” I said, shedding my jacket and pushing up the sleeves of my Henley. “I’m going to spend it how I want. And right now, I want to help Flynn fix a car.”
Holden sighed. “Fine. Have it your way. But you’re clocking out at six, and we’re all having dinner. I’ll call Axel and let him know you’re back. Invite Nova over, too, if you want.”
I’d already texted Nova that I’d be home this weekend, so she would be crashing our dinner either way. I decided not to tell Holden, though. Better that he thought it was his idea to invite her.
“Cool. Thanks.” I turned back to Flynn with a grin. “So, did you miss me?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, man. You’ve got no idea.”
Flynn missed Bailey the mechanic, not Bailey the guy. But it was still nice to hear. I hung my jacket on a hook by the door and then joined him under the car, shooing Gray back to his bike business, beyond ready to get my hands dirty.
“All right, let’s get this figured out,” I said. “You got other work to finish today?”
“Uh, yeah, we’ve got a couple of tune-ups waiting.”
I nodded. “Why don’t you go pull in the next car. Get started on that. I’ll finish this up.”
“You sure?” Flynn looked hesitant. “Holden’s right. This isn’t really your job anymore.”
“I’ll always be a mechanic,” I said as I reached for the brake line. “And this auto shop will always be my home, Flynn. I care about this business, even if I’m not here all the time. It’s hard enough when Holden tells me not to do it. Please don’t jump on that bandwagon too.”
Flynn had a hard face, even with the covering of a full beard, the kind that looked like granite with edges sharp enough to cut. But it visibly softened now, his brown eyes warm. “Ah, kid, I’m sorry. This is your home. I get it. I’m a little jealous. I’ve never had a place like that.”
“Not a kid,” I said tightly.
He grimaced. “Right, no. You’re just…”
“An adult,” I said. “A man, like you.”
His lips twitched. Infuriatingly amused. Damn it. Why did everyone insist on seeing me as the little brother?
“Got it,” he said. “My bad.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Get out there, Flynn. If we work together, maybe we can get you home at a decent hour, huh? You look like you could use a nap.”
His face hardened right back up. “Thanks,” he said dryly. “We can’t all be glowing with the beauty of youth.”
“So, I’m beautiful. Is that what you’re saying?”
He huffed with annoyance and turned away. I laughed behind him. I’d forgotten how easy he was to fluster. I’d never been the greatest at flirting, but Flynn made me want to try.
I didn’t even know if the guy was into men. Probably not. But thoughts of him occupied a lot of space in my mind—and my pants—anyway. I couldn’t let go of the fantasy of that mountain of a man grabbing me hard enough to bruise.
Picking me up. Kissing me. Fucking me against the wall.
Never gonna happen, but damn, it would be hot.