Chapter 12
Kipp
“Tell me again why I need to be down here,” Bunny teasingly commands, long jean covered legs dangling over the edge of the counter space she’s occupying, feet swaying along toHildegard von Bingen that’s playing through the shop’s speakers. “Tell me again why I couldn’t stay upstairs where the air doesn’t smell like spilled oil and stale Cheez-Its.”
“Cheetos.” my correction is attached to a crooked grin. “The distinction is important.”
She tilts her head tauntingly to the side. “Is it?”
“Extremely.” I use a towel to wipe away the aforementioned liquid off my hands at the same time I state, “Just like the difference between crunchy and puffy.”
“Yeah, puffy is definitely better.”
“That’s not at all what the fuck I said.” Laughing is accompanied by a headshake. “And it’s shit I would never say ‘cause crunchy is better.”
“I know those are probably the one’s mommy packed for you to go with your Lunchable but-”
“What’s a Lunchable?”
Her face suddenly shifts to one of confusion. “You don’t know what a fucking Lunchable is?!”
“Of course I know what a fuckin’ Lunchable is just like I know that crunchy Cheetos are better than puffy ones.” Playfully tossing the towel at her precedes more laughter. “Just like car movies are better than horror movies.”
She effortlessly catches the rag. “Agreed.”
“You don’t like horror movies?”
“I’ve lived horror,” Bunny less than gently reminds on a small shrug. “I prefer not to watch it.”
“Same.”
Our eyes momentarily lock in sympathetic filled silence.
Alright so I don’t know exactly what bullshit she’s lived through.
Or is living through.
Or running from.
But I know what living a nightmare feels like.
What not sleeping at night looks like.
And that was her when she got here.
But that isn’t her now.
At least…it doesn’t seem to be.
I’ve seen her get some decent zs.
Eat.
Smile.
And while I wanna know more about her, I won’t push.
I’ll wait.
Because that’s what’s best for Bunny.
That’s what’s gonna stop her from feeling like she has to keep running and hiding.
Not that I’d be above seeking.
Not in a creepy stalker way but fighting for the one you love or whatever.
Not that I love her.
Not that I…don’t.
Or someday won’t.
Or can’t.
Or…what the fuck is wrong with me?
Did I inhale too much motor oil this morning?
Why am I always struggling so hard to read this chick’s warranty manual.
Bunny tucks her pen into her high bun to hang out with the Mickey Mouse one that’s already taken up residency. “You gonna tell me why you needed me down here or what?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Grabbing a fresh car rag occurs on my way back to the front of the vehicle. “I mean it’s not like this shit happens every day.”
Bewilderment rapidly reappears on her face as she curiously leans forward. “What shit?”
“Movie shit.”
“What?!”
“You know where an inanimate object-”
“So many syllables for you.”
“-comes to life like Herbie.”
“The Love Bug?”
“Or Christine, which is technically a love story masquerading as a horror movie.”
“Yeah, totally, the wrong takeaway from that film, Kid.”
“Or KITT from Knight Rider, but he’s autonomous A.I. not actually sentient-”
“Sounds like someone’s been studying for his SATs.”
“-but like the basic principle comparison still stands.”
“Wow,” Bunny whispers out between snickers, “you really do love cars.”
“Movies, TV, and magazines…” I snatch up the funnel I’ll be using to add oil to the vehicle. “And you, baby, are the living, breathing, embodiment of every car mag girl I’ve ever jerked it to.”
The twisted compliment causes more giggles to flood the garage.
“Why do I need you to be here?” The towel is placed on top of the cap area to clean it before removing it to prevent the gunk from falling into the area once it’s open. “Because it’s not every day fantasy literally wanders off the page to become reality.”
Redness creeps into her cheeks as she tucks her bottom lips between her teeth.
Car shit may not be the most romantic shit you can say but that doesn’t mean it can’t be romantic.
Flirting really is just like driving a car.
It’s not necessarily about how the body of the vehicle looks.
It’s about what’s under the hood.
How much power it has.
How smooth you are when shifting gears.
And when it comes to Bunny?
I steadily bounce back and forth between never needing to glance at the speedometer and panic stalling.
Which is something I only did twice when first learning to drive.
I was ten and my mom had like just died.
What did my old man expect?
“What are you working on now?” Bunny curiously inquires at the same time I twist the cap off.
“Changing the oil still.” Carefully placing the object to the side is followed by inserting the funnel. “Gotta dump before you pump.”
“One of the finest third date rules there is.”
Rather than grabbing the bottle of oil, I shoot her a lifted eyebrow. “You fuck on the third date?”
“Evidently,” she curls her fingers around the edge of the counter in a sassy nature, “I fuck without a date.”
“Huh,” is grunted alongside an uncomfortable neck scratch. “I guess I…er…um…we…never did...take you out.” Another cringe is flashed. “Or even…I mean…We uh…never even asked, did we?”
“Nope.” Her expression remains mirthful. “You two just did a whole caveman bit.”
More winces mindlessly escape.
“Lucky for both of you that I’m kinda into it.” A wink is sweetly sent in my direction. “When it comes to you two that is.”
It’s my turn to let heat creep into my cheeks.
“I actually…haven’t been on a real date since…” the end of her sentence not only noticeably fades, it causes her stare to fall to her Converse covered feet. After a brief moment of silence, she swallows whatever it is she’s uncomfortable discussing and meets my stare again. “Let’s just say it’s been a while.”
Knowing if I push her for more information on the missing portion of the conversation, I’ll be simultaneously pushing her away is what leads to me simply picking up the container to resume the last task. “What’s a while?”
“Few years.”
I effortlessly remove the top at the same time I ask, “Where do you wanna go?”
“Is that really how you ask a woman out?”
“It’s how I ask our woman out,” I poke back during the careful pouring. “And wherever she wants to go, is where we’ll take her. Chinese. Japanese. Thai-”
“So, Asian cuisine? Is this somehow tied to your Speed Racer obsession?”
“Doesn’t have to be Asian. It can be Italian. Or Indian. Or fusion. We would try fusion! Crystal Waters has a number of those. Plus, if we do that, Nolan’ll spend at least thirty-five minutes tryin’ to figure out what to order, which is like a Broadway production, so really you’ll be gettin’ dinner and a show.”
Another round of snickers bounces around the garage.
That’s the other reason I want her down here.
I wanna hear that sound.
Fuck, I have never loved a sound as much as that one.
Admittedly the rumble Nolan makes when he comes is a close second.
But that’d be weird to listen to while rotating tires or refilling windshield wiper fluid.
No one needs to pop a pocket wrench as he’s dealing with lug nuts.
“For my birthday last year,” I precede wanting her to stay open and chatting like a normal girlfriend would, “we went and tried sushi pizza-”
“That sounds disgusting.”
“Wasn’t my favorite,” leaves my mouth post screwing the cap in place. “Too much seaweed crust.”
“And that sounds disturbing.”
“Nolan gave up after a slice and a half and told me he’d just grab a burger on our way to see Ford v Ferrari at the drive in.”
“There’s a drive in here?”
“Technically, it’s in Crystal Waters – like most shit – but it’s closer to our town line, so when they do events, we tend to see an uptick in out of towners hitting The Grand Cannory for beer or snacks or The Dig Site for post movie meals.” Pausing occurs to meet her bright-eyed stare once more. “We can do that too if you want.”
Rather than agree or disagree, she sweetly coos, “I don’t know. I may want.”
“You’re open to it?”
“When it comes to you, I’m open to a lot.”
One dopey, bashful grin is given prior to me lowering the vehicle back to the ground, shutting the hood, and testing to make sure everything is good to go for the client.
Around the time I’m sliding out of the driver’s seat, completely finished for the day, its owner, Dwight Toth, comes cockily strolling away from Nolan’s truck, eyes set on the last fucking thing they should be.
You know if he doesn’t wanna end up having to replace a taillight and some teeth.
“Now, this is what I call customer service,” Toth states during a slow rubbing of his pale palms. “You look just like the woman that’s been on my mind all day…”
“Gross,” Bunny instantly retorts prompting me to lightly chuckle.
“Call me Toth, baby.”
“Pass.”
“Daddy works too.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Come on now,” he sleazily precedes, body approaching hers in a way that makes me tense way more than her. “Is that anyway to treat the man that’s putting money on your paycheck? That same paycheck you used to buy that lacy red bra I bet matches your panties.”
Clenching my fists can’t be helped.
One good pop would shut him up a lot faster.
Sure, I’d lose a customer, but he’s just a fucking snowbird.
There’ll be plenty of others to take his place.
There always are.
I miss my opportunity to deck him when Bunny leans slightly forward to offer him a nasty smirk. “Good thingI’m not.”
“She ain’t an employee, Toth,” I forcefully remind upon my approach, fingers still itching for a punch.
“Oh,” the arrogant grin deepens, “even…better…” He slides his frame directly in front of her. “It means when we hook up, we aren’t breaking any rules then.”
Before Bunny even has a chance to respond to his comment, his hand reaches out to brush itself along her thigh, prompting me to instantaneously intervene by grabbing a hold of his ring and pinky finger.
There’s no hesitation to twist them.
Tightly.
Just like there’s no hesitation to lift them up and up and up until his lower half begins to sink lower and lower and lower on a pitiful whine.
“Touch her again, Toth, and we will be breaking fingers.” Applying additional pressure is attached to my own smug smirk. “Got it?”
“Problem?” my best friend asks as he enters the garage, amusement undeniably dancing through his tone.
“I don’t know…” Tilting my head condescendingly to one side, I narrow my glare at the guy whose knees are now clumsily knocking into one another. “Do we have a problem here?”
“Nope.” He rapidly shakes his head. “None. Not uh…um…” he hisses from me bending them even further back to emphasize I’m the one in control. “Not even a tiny one.”
“Good.” I nonchalantly release his hand and stroll around the counter. “Cash or card?”
“Card.” Toth poorly shakes off the pain he’s in while wisely distancing himself away from Bunny. “The usual charges?”
“Seasonal checkup and the courtesy ride to retrieve your vehicle.”
“Is it really a courtesy if he has to pay for it?” Bunny playfully ponders, pulling an amused grunt out of Nolan.
I immediately hit my partner with a scolding stare.
“What?” He grunts a second time and leans against the counter space on the other side of our girl. “I’m not the one who had her help him study for his vocabulary test all afternoon.”
“It was the SATs,” she good naturedly jabs back.
“Okay his high school vocab test. Same shit different name.”
Her giggles instantly get Nolan and I both grinning.
Wide.
Goofy.
Effortlessly.
Fuck, how she’s done that from day one is a muscle car mystery I don’t need solved, but one I’m thankful to have.
After logging into the computer, I pull up Toth’s service report. “Nothing out of the ordinary, but I do recommend having whoever does the car sitting for the Toth household to drive it more often. It’s not getting enough time on the road and that shit can begin to fuck with your vehicle’s programming among other things.”
“Admit it, Kipp,” he begins, still wiggling around his most likely sprained fingers. “You just wanna be the one to take her out and show her a good time.”
“I already have someone for that.” Wiggling my eyebrows at Bunny gets her snickering again. “Besides, Mustangs are sexy, but Camaros are sexier.” Two taps to the keys allow his total to be brought up on the checkout pad. “Everyone knows that.”
“Does everyone know that?” our woman goads again, getting more chuckles out of the man we’ve barely seen all day.
An even better reason for us to all go out.
She gets the date she deserves, and we all get the time together we need.
And we do need it.
One on one time is important, yeah, but if we’re gonna keep doing…whatever it is that we’re doing…all three of us need to be hanging out.
Together.
Like a…insert the proper make and relationship model here.
“I’ve got a couple of college bros that would fucking argue with that shit.” Toth goes to retrieve his wallet but abruptly stops to face Bunny. “That’s why you look so familiar!”
Her eyebrows dart down in tandem with ours. “Excuse me?”
“The chick that’s been on my mind today is an old fraternity brother’s missing girlfriend,” Toth rushes to explain. “He’s been blowing up soc’ with photos of them together. All. Fucking. Day. Telling everybody to keep an eye out. If you’ve seen her or even think you might’ve seen her to let him know…” His gaze suddenly bores a little too hard. A little too long. “I fucking swear you could be her twin.” There’s a small pause that precedes him pointing an uninjured finger in her direction. “You’re not her, are you?”
“Can’t be,” Nolan replies, the faintest displeasure in his voice. “She’s not missing.”
“Yeah, Toth. She’s sitting right there,” I echo while doing my best to ignore the lump of dread building in my throat.
“Not to mention, she doesn’t date frat fucks,” my best friend definitely declares. “Never has.”
Nodding in agreement is attached to a forced laugh. “Just gearheads, like us.”
“Here! Let me show you!” He carelessly tosses his wallet on the counter and dives into his jeans to grab his cell. It takes less than a minute for him to pull up whatever account he’s determined for us to see. “Hm.” His confused hum is accompanied by his eyebrows pulling together and Bunny sliding off the counter. Stepping closer to Nolan. Brushing her body gently against his. “Fuck, they’re not there anymore.” Toth’s continuous scrolling receives deeper and deeper grumbles of consternation. “Where the fuck are those photos?” The stab at his device isn’t gentle. “Where the fuck did they all go?!”
Cutting a brief glance in Nolan’s direction has me spotting him inching a wrench into his clutches, an action that successfully stomps down the knot stuck in my vocal cords.
Good.
I’m glad we’re in the same two-seater here.
Glad we’re both ready to Thelma and Louise our asses off a cliff if necessary.
Not much for chick flicks but it was one of my mom’s favorites.
Might’ve been because of a young Brad Pitt.
I mean the dudes got chops.
“Did he just…” Toth makes strange faces at his phone, “delete them?”
My gaze shifts over to Bunny whose stare is frantically oscillating between me and the exit.
Cutting a path.
Wordlessly telling me exactly where she’s headed if she hears one more wrong word.
“Why the fuck would he delete them? When did he delete them? They were there this morning. They were there at lunch.”
I move my attention back to Nolan and casually tip my head to our girl, which leads to him winding one arm protectively around her waist.
Tugging her closer.
Tightening his hold on her and the tool now in his clutches.
“Fucking weird. Pretty sure they were there when I took a piss on that cactus. And now they’re just…” Toth idiotically tosses the hurt hand into the air causing himself to hiss in discomfort, “gone, dude.”
“How about you pay The Kid and then you get gone?” my best friend humorlessly insists.
Toth shrugs off the non-joking comment as if it is one, tosses his phone on the counter, and resumes the checkout process.
Rather than say another word to him, I meet Bunny’s teary-eyed gaze and mouth the two words I know she needs to hear, that I can’t wait for her to know are true, that I know Nolan and I will do anything to make sure stay true. “You’re. Safe.”