Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Nibbling on a cookie, I stare at my phone and the listings. I flick between the top two, reading the different qualities and reviews, wanting to make sure it’s good before I buy it.
“Why are you looking at portable neck and shoulder massagers?” Skylar scoffs, startling me into dropping my cookie as he throws himself into the chair next to me. “Well? Are you in pain? Need me to tell Noah and get the muscle dude out here?”
“You mean the sports therapist?” I scoff. “No, I’m fine.” I lock my phone and shove the cookie into my mouth as he tilts his head and waits for an answer.
He sighs when he realizes I’m not going to respond and reaches for the plate, grabbing two treats and shoving them in his mouth.
I’m glad I already saved some for Conan, which reminds me .
. . I check my phone, but Evan hasn’t responded with his office address yet, so I lean back in my chair, looking over the baked goods covering the table.
I also ended up baking some cakes, and they sit on the table to my left, waiting for the ravenous meatheads here I call friends to rip them apart.
I sense Noah before he speaks. My body is always attuned to his, and I feel him in every room.
He reaches past me, grabbing a cookie, and I look up at him.
He’s busy chewing, his beautiful jaw working, but the bags under his eyes worry me.
His hair is messy, like it always is when he’s stressed since he tugs at it, and his tank is covered in oil.
He’s probably been working on the cars again, another sign he’s stressed.
“These are amazing.” His dark eyes land on me, locking me in place.
It doesn’t matter how old I get or how much I’ve grown, I always feel so young and helpless when Noah looks at me, desperate for his praise and attention.
“You haven’t baked for us in ages. How did you know I needed something sweet? ” he teases.
“Oh, uh, I baked them for Conan since he bought me supplies,” I start before trailing off, blinking as Noah drops the cookie to the plate with a glare. “It isn’t good?” I ask quietly.
“They are fine.” He turns and stomps away, leaving me staring after him. His shoulders are tight. He looks so stressed today, I wonder what I could do to help.
“Ignore him, they are amazing. He’s just being grumpy,” Skylar says, drawing my gaze back to him.
“Is he okay? He looks tired and stressed,” I mumble.
“Uh-uh, he’s fine, just being a stubborn ass. He made himself like this,” he tells me. “Conan, eh?”
I grin and duck my head, and he nudges at me, demanding to know everything, when a whistle cuts through the air. “Goddamn, what did I do to deserve a present?” one of the mechanics yells, and we both turn to see what they are cheering at.
“Who is that?” Skylar asks curiously, echoing my thoughts.
She’s not our usual visitor, that’s for sure.
For starters, she’s in five-inch, red-bottom heels, a short black mini dress, and a sports jacket with a designer bag slung over her arm.
She’s wearing a ton of jewels, her nails are perfectly manicured, and her hair shines brightly under the garage lights.
She tosses it over her shoulder with a practiced shake of her head, and her bright red lips tilt up in a smile as she strides through the garage, ignoring everyone and everything.
“Not a clue. Maybe she’s a new sales rep?” I murmur.
“Or a pit lizard?” Skylar scoffs.
I nod, but then she stops. “No!” she calls cheerfully, and Noah turns from where he was talking to a mechanic. His eyes land on her as she rushes over to him.
My heart goes cold as she smiles brightly and knowingly at Noah.
She knows him.
She’s here for him.
She’s beautiful.
The worst part? He smiles back, and when she reaches him and grabs his arm, he doesn’t stop her . . . not like when he shakes off my touch.
I glance between them. It’s obvious they are familiar as she leans into him, laughing at something he said. He doesn’t look uncomfortable. If anything, he looks . . . happy.
Is she his girlfriend or about to be?
Has he wanted to be with her all this time?
I eye her again, instantly hating her. Is it because she’s beautiful and rich, or is it because she’s a woman?
Not wanting to see anymore, I turn away, grab a fork, angrily rip open one of the cake lids, and stab into it, ruining the perfect icing.
I shovel it into my mouth to stop myself from going over there, yet I can still hear her laughter from here, and my back stiffens as I shove another big bite into my mouth.
“Why are you eating so much cake?” Sky frowns at me, concern in his eyes.
“Because murder is frowned upon,” I mutter as I stab my fork again, my eyes on her and Noah despite my intention.
“Um, murder is illegal,” Skylar says helpfully.
My eyes flit to him, and a mean smile curls my lips. “Only if you get caught.”
“Okay, I’m just going to take this away.
” His hand slides over, taking the knife from the cutlery tray, and he wisely moves it away.
When the woman and Noah head our way, I fist my fork harder, so he grabs that as well.
“And this, and you know what? This too.” He takes my cup and spins away, putting everything out of reach.
“Who said I was talking about her? Maybe I meant you,” I tell Skylar angrily.
His eyes widen, and he covers his junk protectively. “I have too much to live for. I still need to see my boy dressed as a maid.”
My anger dissipates, and I gawk. “What?”
He nods, looking pathetic. “Until then, I can’t die happy, okay? So why don’t you take up yoga or meditation or some shit?”
“Why a maid?” I ask despite my burning hot jealousy.
“You never had a dream, Mackie? A desire so strong in life? Mine is to see Bones dressed as a maid.” He sighs wistfully, propping his head on his hand. “I’ve begged and bribed, but nothing. One day, I will achieve my dream, so until then, no murder.”
Sitting back, I wipe my mouth as Noah and the woman stop at my side. “Back to work,” Noah growls at us, and I glance from him to the woman, who smiles brightly at us.
“These must be our drivers. You talked a lot about them. Skylar and . . . Mackie, correct?” she asks kindly, and I hate it.
“That’s us, double trouble, the big race gods.” Sky offers his hand, and she looks from it to him with a smile, then he drops it with an arched brow. “Who are you anyway?” he asks.
“Skylar,” Noah scolds. “Ignore him. They are used to being surrounded by racers and mechanics. They are rude.”
She lets out a fake, little giggle and leans into him, making my eyes narrow. “Oh, it’s fine. I once visited a track, so I understand.”
“Oh, you must know all about it then,” Skylar remarks, widening his eyes innocently. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Amanda Winchester the third,” she answers.
“Ah, well, my full name is Skylar Warren the first, dick—” I shove a cookie in his mouth as he chokes on his next words.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, each word like acid on my tongue, especially when she looks at me and digs her red-tipped nails into Noah’s muscle.
My phone rings loudly, vibrating on the table, and I glance at it to see Conan’s name. I glance back at Noah to see his lips tilting down, but I ignore him as I snatch it up.
“I have to take this. I’m taking an extra five.” I turn away and answer. “Hey,” I greet, softening my voice. “Did you finish editing?”
I leave Noah and his new girlfriend behind. The last piece of my heart falls from my chest.
It’s done.
It’s fully over.
He’s moving on, and so should I.