Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Isla
I don’t know why I’m so uncomfortable at this barbecue, but I am. Every time Blake rests his hand on my lower back, I want to lean away from his touch.
I like Blake. I do.
And I’ve told myself that we haven’t slept together only because I want to take things slow. I almost jumped right into bed with Travis, and look how that blew up in my face. He was a closet jerk and got pissed as soon as he found out he wasn’t going to get in my pants that night.
But today, for the first time, I wonder if maybe it’s more than that. If maybe my subconscious is saving me from sleeping with a man I have no future with. Because every time Blake opens his mouth this afternoon, I want to cringe.
He sounds so… uptight and snooty.
Blake works in tech and is a really intelligent man. But it’s like he thinks that anyone who doesn’t have a postgraduate degree is somehow less than. I’ve wondered a few times—when we’ve been out for dinner together and I mention something going on at work or one of my bosses—whether he’s judging me. Just a vibe I’ve gotten. And now, I’m pretty sure he was. I’m not even sure it’s anything he’s conscious of.
I have to ask myself if that’s why I’m so uncomfortable today, or if, and I hate even to think this, it’s because Travis is here.
It’s not like I owe the man anything. But knowing he’s probably seeing Blake put his arm around me makes me… uncomfortable. Like I’m doing something wrong, even though I’m not.
Whatever. I push those thoughts out of my head and turn my attention back to Lucas and Camila, who we’re saying goodbye to.
“Thanks again for having us, and congratulations again,” I tell them both.
“Of course. Blake, you should join us one Friday night at The Third Rail. We usually all get together for a few beers after work,” Lucas says, being friendly.
“Is that the place off Main? The one with that sign that looks like it’s been there for ages?” I hope I’m the only one who notices the slight derision in Blake’s voice.
“They have the best wings, right, babe?” Camila looks at Lucas.
He smiles and nods. “Best out there, for sure.”
Blake wrinkles his face. “I don’t eat messy food.”
Oh god, this is so awkward!
“Well, we’d better get going. Bye, guys.” I take Blake’s hand and lead him away.
Without encountering anyone else, we go around the side of the house and down the driveway toward where my car is parked on the road. I drove since I picked Blake up after the end of the race.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” I ask once I’m pulling away from the curb.
Blake moves his head from side to side. “I guess. Not really my kind of crowd.” He must realize how that sounds because he rushes to add, “But everyone was really nice.”
I’m starting to think that maybe Blake is a snob and he’s not my kind of crowd.
I pull out of the subdivision, and I’m not driving more than a minute before the lights on my dash flash once, then twice before they go out and the whole car dies.
“What the hell?” I grumble, steering the car toward the curb until it rolls to a stop.
“What’s going on?” Blake asks.
“I have no idea.”
My hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and I look in my rearview mirror as traffic builds up in the lane behind me. One person honks, then another. My cheeks heat and my heart rate speeds as panic and embarrassment take hold. I hate situations like this. I get panicky and don’t know what to do even though I know that it happens to people all the time and it’s not the end of the world.
“Try to start the car,” Blake says.
I turn to look at him. “It’s dead. It’s not going to start.” I turn the key to demonstrate.
“Pop the hood,” he says and gets out of the car.
I do as he asks, and when traffic has all gone around my car, I carefully get out and round the hood. Bless Blake for trying to help, but he’s staring at the inner workings of my vehicle with his hands on his hips, clearly outside his knowledge. There’s no judgment, it’s outside mine too.
A vehicle pulls around my car and whizzes past us, the driver yelling profanity.
“I’m going to get my phone and call a tow truck.” I walk to the passenger side for my purse, so I’m not on the side of traffic when someone pulls up behind my car. “Just go around,” I grumble as I pull my purse from the car and straighten up, only to find Travis standing there, hands on his hips, a deep groove between his eyebrows.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
It takes me a beat to gather myself. Honestly, I’m surprised he even stopped. I would have thought he’d pretend he didn’t see me and drive by.
“My car just died when I was driving. Not sure what’s going on.”
Blake walks over from the front of the car. “Hey, I was just taking a look under the hood.”
Travis turns from Blake, raises his eyebrows at me, and turns back. At least he does me the courtesy of not pointing out that Blake likely has no idea what he’s doing, but I feel second-hand embarrassment anyway.
“If I had to guess, it’s probably your alternator, but let me try to jump your battery just to be sure. We can call a tow truck if that doesn’t work.”
Travis is already making his way back to his vehicle when I say thanks because by the time I found my voice after hearing him say he’d jump my battery, likely a full thirty seconds have passed.
He waits for traffic to clear in the other lane, pulls his truck around my vehicle, and makes a three-point turn until our hoods are separated by a foot and a half. Something about the confidence he shows makes my stomach feel weird, but I blink that thought away as Travis gets out of his truck and goes around to the back. He returns a minute later with a set of cables and pops the hood on his truck.
He leans over my hood and connects the red end to my battery, then does the same to the battery in his truck, then connects the black one to his battery as well. When he straightens up, he holds out the only loose connector to Blake.
Blake takes it, but he stares at it as though he’s never seen anything like it in his life. And I think it’s very possible he hasn’t.
Travis’s sigh is filled with judgment. “That’s the ground. Attach it to any piece of bare metal, and then I’ll start the car. Isla, you start your car when I tell you.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, walking around his vehicle to get into the driver’s side.
Blake walks over toward my open hood, looking down at everything, obviously still unsure.
It’s fine. It’s no big deal. So what if the guy doesn’t know how to jump-start a car? I’m sure he has many other things he’s good at.
Even though I don’t totally know how to do this, I do know where to hook the final cable, so I take it from Blake and do just that before getting in the driver’s seat.
Travis starts his engine, and after a few seconds, he shouts for me to do the same. I do, but nothing happens. I try again and nothing. After a third attempt, I slump back into my seat.
Blake hunches down on the passenger side and says through the open window, “Think you’re gonna have to call a tow truck.”
Half an hour later, I watch the tow truck pull away from the curb with my car.
“Come on, I’ll drop you guys off.” Again, Travis doesn’t wait to see whether we follow as he strides toward his truck.
Blake’s hand slides down my spine to rest on my lower back, and when I glance at the truck, I swear Travis is watching us from behind his sunglasses.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” Blake asks when we reach the side of the truck.
The slight innuendo in his voice makes me stiffen. Is he really choosing this moment to try to get me to sleep with him for the first time?
“I think I’m going to go home and get to bed early. It’s been a long day.”
A slight frown mars Blake’s face, but he nods. I appreciate him not pressuring me.
Then he opens the passenger side door and slips into the front seat. I don’t know why it shocks me. I mean, he did me a favor. I would’ve been uncomfortable sitting beside Travis, but Blake just met Travis. And I work for the man.
Travis shakes his head slightly as I open the back door and get inside.
“Where are you guys headed?” We both give him our address, then Travis meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “I’ll drop you off first, Bloke.”
“Blake. Thanks.”
Travis doesn’t say anything and pulls away from the curb. I’m pretty sure he’s purposely using the wrong name.
We’re all quiet until Travis pulls down Blake’s street, then Blake points and says, “It’s the one up here on the right with the BMW in the driveway.” As the truck rolls to a stop, Blake turns around and looks at me in the back seat. “Last chance if you want to come in.”
My eyes widen, and I feel so…damn uncomfortable.
Travis clears his throat and looks out the driver’s side window.
“I’m just going to go home.” Before Blake can say anything else that will unknowingly make me more uncomfortable, I open the door so I can move up to the front seat.
Blake meets me at the side of the truck and comes in for a kiss. It’s not weird that he would—we’ve kissed goodbye lots of times at this point—but Travis is right there, so I offer Blake my cheek. He draws back and looks at me, then Travis, and says goodbye.
I climb back into the truck. The moment my seat belt clicks, Travis presses on the gas. Neither of us says a word for a few blocks. The tension expands and expands in the cab of the truck until I can barely pull any oxygen into my lungs.
Travis is the first one to break it. “Seems like a nice guy.”
My head whips in his direction. “Oh, please, it’s obvious you don’t like him. Bloke?”
He scowls and spares me a glance before looking back at the road. “What? I said he seemed like a nice guy.”
I shake my head. “Please, you were suppressing an eye roll when he didn’t know how to jump-start the car.”
Travis actually does roll his eyes now. “Everyone should know how to jump-start a car.”
“Seriously? That’s your argument? That a real man should know how to jump-start a car?”
“I said every one , Isla, not every man. It’s just a practical thing to know to get yourself out of a jam. It has nothing to do with being a man.”
I realize he’s right. He’s got me. Not that I’ll tell him that. Instead, I cross my arms and push back into the seat with frustration. “Whatever.”
Travis shakes his head in my peripheral vision, and though I can’t see him roll his eyes, I somehow know he did.
Screw him. What right does he have to judge me?
We’re almost at my street when I can’t help myself. “Lucas invited Blake to join us one Friday at The Third Rail. Are you going to be a jerk about it if I bring him?”
He scoffs. “Why would I care?”
“I don’t know. Why would you?” I look out the window and point at the triplex where my apartment is located. “That building there on the left.”
He pulls in, drives down the side of the building, and parks at the back. We sit there silently for a beat, listening to the engine run until I can’t take it anymore.
“I thought we’d agreed to put what happened between us aside. That we’d moved on. But now that you’re going to be in the office every day again, I’m starting to get the feeling that might not be the case, so let’s hash it out now so we can forget about it. I don’t want to be uncomfortable every day in the office.”
“Who said it wasn’t behind us?”
I motion his way with my hand. “You basically did. You were borderline rude to Blake all day. You look like you’re constantly biting your tongue every time you’re in my vicinity, and all because what—I wouldn’t sleep with you? Get over it! Do you know how misogynistic and rude that is?”
“I didn’t realize you prided yourself on being a cock tease.”
My mouth drops, and I swear I want to take my purse and smack this man upside the head with it. If he weren’t my boss, I might.
“Jesus. Have you never been rejected before in your life? You know this reaction isn’t normal, right?”
“Neither is stripping a man down, stroking his cock, and bolting with zero explanation.”
All the hurt and anger from that night rushes back to the surface. “I got my period, okay? There. Now you know!” Mortified by my outburst, I open the door and rush from the truck into my building.
I’ve either cleared the air or made it even more murky. Guess I’ll see which on Monday morning.