17. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
WESTON
I never should have agreed to having Becky stay in my workshop. I was trying to focus on fixing the faulty ignition, but I was hyperaware of her. Every time she moved, her chocolate-colored hair bounced in the light of the workshop, captivating me. Her soft humming echoed throughout the space, causing me to lean in her direction, hoping to pick up the song she was humming. It unnerved me how aware of her presence I was, but I reassured myself that it was only temporary. In nine short days, she would be gone, and I’d be able to return to my solitary existence. Despite my reservations, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt towards her. I knew it was foolish to open up to anyone new, yet I found it impossible to resist the chance to get to know her better .
As I continued to work, I stole glances at her every chance I got. I noticed the way she fidgeted with the belt loop on her skirt, and the graceful way she moved around the workshop. It was like watching a dancer, every movement a beautiful expression of her innermost self.
“I adore this old radio. Does it play CDs?” she asked, standing on her tiptoes to get a better view of it up on the shelf.
“Yup.”
“Can I press play?”
Before I had a chance to say no, she punched the play button. The track I had been listening to on Monday blared through the speakers.
“Enya? You can’t be serious.” Becky said with a giggle.
“What? It helps me focus,” I said, trying not to feel embarrassed.
“You sure are a mystery, Weston.”
“I promise, I’m no mystery.”
Becky turned up the volume and began dancing to the floating sounds of Enya. She caught me smiling at her and she stepped up her game and went into full contemporary dancer mode. She nailed the overdramatic fluttering hands and hair grabs. I laughed at the ridiculous sight. Who was this girl ?
“Do you dance like this, in between fixing cars?” she asked, while doing some weird wave motion with her arms.
I was quick to deflect. “I don’t dance,” I muttered.
“You danced with me at Gray and Elle’s wedding. Remember?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief and memories.
That memory was untouched, preserved in a corner of my mind.
“You didn’t give me a choice,” I shot back, trying to conceal my true thoughts. “Besides, that’s different. Dancing at a wedding, under a thousand twinkling lights with you, is a far cry from dancing on my own while dodging greasy car parts.”
She laughed, the sound mingling with the tunes filling the garage. “Well, you should,” she said softly, “Especially if you enjoy listening to flowy music like Enya. And, you know, if I block out the parts where you were a grump, I really enjoyed dancing with you at the wedding.”
Her comment caught me off guard. Was she hinting at something more, or merely reminiscing? Either way, the memory of her in my arms was now fresh in my mind.
“Thanks, I guess,” I said.
Becky quit her dancing, turned off the music, and walked toward me. “What are you working on here? ”
“There is something off with this ignition. I’m trying to fix it through some good old-fashioned trial and error.”
“Please show me. This is all very fascinating,” she said, eagerness in every word.
Nodding, I guided her through the steps I was taking to test out the ignition, her attentive eyes tracking my every move. I handed her the key after each adjustment, letting her ignite the engine. The pride that sparked in her eyes, reflecting back at me, was something I’d never expected to see.
“Wow, Weston. You should be doing this professionally.”
Her words hit me harder than I anticipated. Becky’s unfiltered appreciation and her pride in my abilities was like a breath of fresh air. It touched a need I hadn’t realized I’d been neglecting—the desire to be seen, to be understood, and most importantly, to be appreciated for who I truly was.
The surprising rush of warmth that flooded my veins had nothing to do with the heat of the garage or the running engine. No, it was entirely due to Becky and her heartfelt words. They held more power than she could ever imagine, and as I glanced at her, my chest tightened with a strange but not unwelcome sense of happiness. Not sure what to do with all these new emotions and feelings, I brushed off Becky’s suggestion.
“Nah, it’s just a hobby. I’ve got to prioritize the insurance company.”
“Suit yourself. But just know, I think you, in this field of work, would be magic,” she said. “Can I peek at your house renovations now?”
I paused to consider my options. I dropped my tools and dusted off my hands. “Sure, I’ll show you around.”