5. Carter
Carter
T he garage smells like new tires, leather polish, and sweat.
Normally, that’s comforting. It’s the scent of independence. Of control.
My place.
My rules.
But right now?
All I can smell is her.
Tomato, basil, and temptation—with something sweeter underneath.
Like brown sugar and heat and sin in tight jeans and a Pizza Girls tee.
“Damn it,” I mutter, popping the trunk on a brand-new Escalade and pretending I give a shit about the luggage compartments .
I don’t.
Not right now.
I’m trying not to think about the way her curls bounced when she laughed.
Trying real hard not to think about the way her smile wrapped around me like a silk noose.
Or the way she said my pleasure like she meant it in every possible way.
Focus, Carter.
I should be going over schedules. Finalizing the website. Checking on the damn permit status with the DMV.
Instead, I’m pacing the garage like a caged animal. The last fucking thing in the world I want to be.
Buzz.
I stop dead. My hand’s already in my pocket before my brain catches up.
Phone. Notification alert. Date to Mate.
Uzzi’s stupid app.
The one I swore I wouldn’t take seriously. The one I only downloaded to prove a point.
To prove I wasn’t scared.
To prove I wasn’t looking.
I unlock the screen with a swipe.
No matches .
Just the soft pulsing logo. A little heart beating in time with mine.
Fuck.
I’m not supposed to be waiting. That wasn’t the deal.
I was supposed to eat pizza, humor the old Witch, and go about my merry single Lion life.
But now I’m checking the damn app like it owes me something.
Like she owes me something.
And I don’t even know her last name.
All I know is that my instincts are screaming at me to turn around.
Go back. Buy another pie. Ask her out. Drag her into my world and see if she fits.
Except that’s not how this is supposed to go.
I’m not the mate-and-marriage type. I’ve never been.
And fated mates?
That’s for fairy tales and fools.
Still, I squeeze the phone in my hand.
Buzz.
Another notification.
I check again.
Still nothing.
“Damn you, Uncle Uzzi,” I growl, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat of the nearest car like that’ll help.
It doesn’t.
All it does is leave me wondering if fate is playing with me, or if I just missed my shot.