Chapter 4
FOUR
RYKER
“Who the fuck does he think he is?” I muttered, watching Casey fucking Carter leave my coffee shop with his gym-bro protein drink. I gazed at the last few bites of my sandwich. Food was not to be wasted, but my appetite was gone. I stuffed it in my mouth and forced it down.
A minute later, Casey’s black BMW drove across the parking lot and onto the street.
Truth be told, I wasn’t sure what to think of him.
Part of me wanted him, for sure. But what did a guy like him see in me?
Fuck it. Stuffing the rest of my grapes into my lunch bag, I rose.
I could eat the rest later. There was an SUV in the shop that needed a new serpentine belt.
If I could finish the job today, it would mean a good payout.
I left the coffee shop and headed down the covered walkway to my place, sipping my iced tea. I wasn’t too rough on Casey, was I? Taking the time to coach Wes was a friendly gesture. But why was he so damn flirtatious with me?
As I strolled through the door to the repair shop, my gaze snagged Dylan, sitting behind the desk, smirking at me.
“What?” I sipped the last of my drink and tossed it into the garbage bin next to the desk. Did he do anything while I was gone?
“How’d it go with the quarterback?” Widening his smirk, he stood and stretched.
“Fine. He wanted some info on Wes for when he coaches him.” I glanced into the shop and a fresh car, an old Chevy Malibu, rested in Casey’s stall. “What’s going on there?” I ticked my head at it.
“Oil change and tire rotation. I’m almost done with it.” Hitching his trousers up, he strolled to the door to the stalls. “Just taking a brief break since the guy won’t be back until almost closing.”
“Okay.” I followed him through the doorway and set my bag inside the half-fridge. Dylan had talked to Casey for a while before giving him his car. “Hey, did you say anything to Casey about me?”
“No, why would you say that?” He gave me a lop-sided grin.
I knew that fucking look. Guilty. Placing a hand on my hip, I said, “Dude, what did you tell him?”
“Look, he’s interested in you.” He stepped toward me. “God knows why, but you should take him up on any offers.” He chuckled. “If you don’t, you might turn into a virgin again.”
I choked back a laugh. “Stop. All Casey’s looking for is a hookup, and I…” Shit, I what? Didn’t have time for a hookup? I had time for it. A relationship was what I didn’t have time for.
Touching my forearm, Dylan said, “Look, when you’re cleaned up, you’re not half bad to look at. If I were into guys, which I’m not.” He cocked his head. “So, what have you got to lose?”
“My dignity.” I freed a soft snort. “I don’t know. Let’s stop talking about it and get this work done.” I stepped to the SUV and looked inside the engine. I had only to reassemble it.
After a dinner of Hamburger Helper, I sat on Mom’s flower-patterned couch in her apartment, our apartment, biting my thumbnail and scrolling on my phone while Wes did the last of his homework. I couldn’t wait for school to end, so I wouldn’t have to nag him about studying anymore.
Wes’s phone buzzed, and he picked it up. A smile broke over his face.
“Who’s that?” His expression told me everything. I set my phone on the cushion next to me.
“Casey. He says he’s free on Saturday for our first coaching session.” He tapped on the screen. “That works, right?”
“Provided he can pick you up.” I worked at the shop on Saturday mornings, and we only had my truck. Wes just got his license, but I’d be damned if I’d let him drive my truck around without me supervising. Not yet anyway.
“Yeah, he can pick me up.” He looked at his phone screen. “It’ll be early, though. Since it’s so hot, he wants to get me around six-thirty.”
My brows snapped up. “You’re willing to get up that early on a Saturday?” I could see the logic in it. I might drop him off somewhere after all. “Where will you go for practice?”
“I’ll be up.” He set his jaw. “He’s taking me to a field in Tempe he likes.”
“Okay.” I wouldn’t have time to drive into Tempe and then open the shop by seven. “How long do you think you’ll be out there?”
“Don’t know.” After tapping some more, he set his phone down. “It’s all set. He’s picking me up here at six-thirty, and he said he could take me home too.”
“Works for me.” With a sigh, I plucked my phone from the couch and opened the screen. Casey might arrive late, and then I’d miss him before leaving for work. My chest twinged a bit. No, I didn’t want to see him. And I wouldn’t look him up on social media.
A few days passed, and the itch to see Casey on social media was literally unbearable.
How the hell had he gotten to me? Sitting in the coffee shop with my drink and my lunch, I tapped my phone open.
It was this place. It was like Casey had cursed it.
Now every time visited the place, I remembered him sitting across from me, at this very table.
Maybe I should have found a new table to sit at, but this one had a decent view of the street and any cars that might head into the shop.
With a huff, I opened my Instagram app and searched his name.
Yes, I was weak. I ate a bite of my ham and cheese sandwich and scrolled through the accounts.
He wasn’t very hard to find. Or maybe my damn phone had listened to me and now the algorithm knew I would research him.
I wasn’t sure how that shit worked, but it was a little creepy.
I tapped on his profile, and tiles of photos filled my screen, many of them of him in his football uniform on the field. Those could be publicity images that the school added.
Sipping my tea, I scrolled some more. Several pictures showed him in the gym, reflected in the mirror, flexing with a bare chest. Of course he did that.
One photo had a buttload of comments. I clicked on the icon.
“Jesus.” Maybe I shouldn’t look. As heat floated across my chest, I read on.
Men and women both threw themselves at Casey with flirty and suggestive remarks.
Did he accept any of these offers? Probably.
With a huff, I set my phone on the table, face down.
Fuck it. I should eat and then return to the shop.
A few hours later, all the work was done, and I sat at the desk, ordering parts to refill our regular inventory while Dylan sprawled across the couch, staring at the ceiling.
“When are you seeing Casey again?” He rubbed his forehead.
“He’s picking Wes up from my place on Saturday morning. I don’t think I’ll see him.” I clicked on some oil filters. We had the best prices around for oil changes, and the neighborhood loved us for it.
He tsked. “What have you got against—”
My phone’s ringer went off. “Shit.” I glanced at the screen.
The telltale number of the jail scrolled across it.
My heart lurched. “My mom’s calling. I have to take this.
” I answered the call and went through the collect-call routine.
She didn’t call very often, so this could be important. Or maybe it wasn’t.
The phone clicked. “Hello? Ryker? Are you there?”
“I am, Mom. How are you?” I cleared my throat as a lump formed in it. Fuck, she sounded more broken every time.
“I’m all right. I wanted to phone and see if Wes passed all his classes.”
“He did. As of today, school is out for the summer.” Thank fucking God. But now he’d be staying up late most nights video gaming. Maybe Casey could help ease that. I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Good. Have you paid the rent yet?” she asked.
I glanced at Dylan, now sitting up and watching me. He’d be there when this call ended, and I was down. He always was. “Yes, of course I’ve paid it.” Okay, no, I hadn’t, but I still had another day, and I did my bills on Fridays. It wouldn’t be late.
“Good. Hey, listen, there’s a girl here who knows a guard at Carl’s prison. She says he’s been trying to reach me. Do you think you can get a message to him? Can you tell him where I am now?”
My chest squeezed, and I breathed through it. Fuck Carl. He’d got her into this mess. “Mom, you know I won’t talk to Carl.”
Dylan stood and ambled toward me.
“Please, baby, it would mean so much to me.” She coughed into the phone.
“Mom, no.” I gritted my teeth, thinking through what she said. “If this girl is friends with a guard, then have them relay your messages.”
“I didn’t want this going outside of family.”
“He’s not our family.” Heat swarmed my chest, and I pulled at my bangs. Fuck this. Why did she care about him again? Was she just lonely? “Mom, he’s gone from your life and ours. Leave it be.”
“But…but he loves me.” She sighed. “He sent me a letter once, and that’s what it said.”
“Mom, that was a year ago, and you wanted nothing to do with him.” Yes, Carl had sent one letter to the apartment, and I’d been a fool and given it to her during a visit. At the time, she’d been pissed at him and never responded. I’d thought we were over this. “Please let it go. It’s done.”
Dylan squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll go clean up the stalls and get things locked up. I think we’re done for today.”
With a nod, I planted my elbow on the table and my forehead in my hand. I didn’t know what else to tell her.
“Okay, I’ll give it a rest for now.” She huffed. “But think about it, all right?”
Fuck no, I would not. I should get her onto a new subject. “Hey, Wes is getting some coaching from an ASU quarterback. The guy came into the shop needing a new sensor and offered after meeting Wes.”
“He is? Oh, that’s great.”
“Yeah, it is.” Warmth drifted through my chest. Maybe Casey was a player, but he was doing Wes a solid. I’d give him that.
“Anyway, I should go. I’m getting angry stares from the other girls who want to use the phone.”
“Okay. Love you, Mom. Bye.” Thank fucking God, she didn’t ask us to visit on Sunday. The place was so depressing, and it would be hot as hell in the visitor’s yard.
“Bye, love you too.” She ended the call.