Chapter 6 AS LONG AS YOU’RE HERE #2
There was no inkling of amusement on her face, and for the first time since she walked in, he caught a glimpse of something else behind her big, magnetic coffee brown eyes.
Something that had him raking his eyes over her carefully.
Still wet from her trek around the corner, she shivered against the breeze blowing through now that the heat had kicked off.
“Follow me. I think I have something you can change into, so you can get out of those wet clothes.” Heavy nodded over his shoulder to the office door a few steps away.
Giselle was hesitant, but she was cold and wet, which was making her uncomfortable as hell, and she didn’t want to get sick.
That was the last thing she needed. She didn’t get creep vibes from Heavy, but she didn’t know him.
Most of her time was spent around corporate types.
Yet she found him intriguing as hell, and it was beginning to rattle her.
“Fine,” she huffed, stomping behind him as he led her into the tidy space.
Unlike the rest of the shop, the office had a fresh coat of paint, and an L-shaped desk tucked in one corner, with a sofa and coffee table in the corner.
A large canvas photo of the auto shop from back in the day hung over the leather couch in a chrome frame.
A couple of steps away was another door for the private bath.
It was big enough for a toilet, sink, shower, built in cabinets for storage, and one of those stackable washer and dryers.
Continuing to examine the room, the flick of a lighter gained her attention, and she turned to find Heavy behind the desk, lighting a candle.
A warm glow suddenly filled the room, reflecting behind his striking eyes that ran amuck all over her face.
The intensity dancing through his gaze as he studied her left her stomach fluttering while that little space between her legs developed its own pulse.
Surprisingly, there was more than one candle, so he lit them all, one by one, and arranged them around the room as Giselle stood there with her teeth chattering.
With one of the candles in his hand, he stepped into the bathroom.
Propping one of the cabinets open, he retrieved a towel and pulled out the drawer below.
Removing a big t-shirt, he tossed it for Giselle to catch.
“Thanks,” she muttered, hugging the folded shirt against her chest.
“You can use the bathroom first. I need to shower and get all this oil off me.” He peered down at himself. “I left a fresh towel for you on the sink, just in case.” He set the candle on the back of the toilet lid.
“Thank you... again.”
“No problem. Take your time.” He backed out of the room, and she slowly closed the door behind her.
There was no denying Giselle was one of the most beautiful women Heavy had ever laid eyes on.
She was also fully aware of it, so he wasn’t about to stroke her ego any more than anyone else had.
He heard the shower run for a few minutes as he sat behind his desk, rolling a blunt.
He didn’t live far and could make it home in his truck, but he thought it would be best to just wait it out here with her since she needed her car fixed.
Once he had his Backwood ready to go, he left it on the desk to dry and decided to gather some snacks and a few paper cups so they could have something to eat.
There were some cold cut sandwiches in his office fridge and a veggie tray with dip because he lived off those things.
While Giselle got herself together, he arranged a little picnic for them on the coffee table and even copped some chips and candy from the vending machine in the waiting area.
He wasn’t sure what she liked, so he got a little of everything.
The shower shut off, and he sparked his blunt before pulling the bottom drawer to his desk out and retrieving the bottle of Don Julio 1942.
Since they were stuck, he didn’t see any reason why they couldn’t get faded.
It was his way of ending the night when he got home after a long day.
Some nights he worked later than intended, so he was always prepared.
Moments later, the door cracked open, and Giselle emerged with his t-shirt practically swallowing her little frame and hanging to her knees.
Suddenly the confident woman who walked in seemed a little unsure of herself.
Seated behind his desk, he took a pull from the blunt and squinted at her through the smoke escaping his mouth.
Giselle swung her attention to the arrangement on the coffee table.
“What’s with the gourmet spread?” she teased, moving closer to the table.
“Usually, if I was home, I’d smoke, have a night cap, and something to eat after my shower.”
“Ohh, Lemonheads.” She picked up the little yellow box and examined it with a nostalgic grin. “I used to love these when I was little.”
“You from Southwick?”
“I guess you could say that.” Giselle took a seat on the edge of the couch.
“I was six when my daddy moved us to Leawood.” She rested her hands in her lap and peered up as if she was doing math in her head.
“I used to come for summers until I was about fifteen or sixteen, but it’s been years now.
” She ripped the box open and tucked her legs under her while holding up in a corner of the sofa facing him.
“You want a drink?” Heavy stood, holding a cup for himself that he’d already filled with tequila.
“With the day I’ve had? Absolutely?” She grabbed the cup he held out to her, and Heavy poured the tequila until Giselle held up a hand to stop him.
She brought the rim under her nose and inhaled before taking a sip.
“Mmm, yeah, you can keep those coming.” She licked her lips and looked him over. “So, your name is really Heavy?”
He tittered a bit and stroked his beard. “Just what the streets been calling me since I was a youngin’. My mama named me Huey, and don’t nobody call me that shit.”
“Huey?” Giselle repeated, hiding a smirk. “Okay, Heavy it is.”
“I’m gonna hop in the shower.” He took another drag from the blunt in his hand and nodded to it. “You want to babysit it until I get out?”
“Why the hell not?” Giselle gripped it between her two fingers.
She wasn’t so uptight that she couldn’t partake in a little weed.
Heavy seemed like he was trying to make her comfortable, and she couldn’t be mad at that.
The day had gone from bad to worse, and she needed a moment where she could forget.
Seated on the leather sofa, she smoked and sipped, catching a quick buzz as Heavy cleaned himself up.
Picking up her phone, the urge to check on her former life hit her, and she found herself scrolling her Facebook and Instagram accounts.
Most of her friends had graduated from college and gotten jobs in their fields.
Giselle was on her way to locking in a position with a design agency when her life collapsed.
Now, she was swinging in limbo and not sure how to get back on track.
Seeing her clique, Travis and Esther, partying on a yacht and having a carefree time had her envious as she zoomed in on their smiling faces.
Travis was a pretty boy with golden honey skin, tight, juicy curls, and tapered off sides with a pair of bright pink pussy suckers.
She knew for a fact he could eat you like a ripe peach and have you climbing the walls.
With Esti at his side, there was no doubt in her mind that they were more than likely fucking around now.
Giselle had a love/hate relationship with her.
Mainly because the girl was always in some kind of silent competition with her.
If she wasn’t biting her hairstyle or wardrobe, she was talking like her.
She wouldn’t know what trendy was if she was slapped upside the head with every issue of Vogue.
She took all her social cues from Giselle.
After getting to the last picture on her slide, which was of a group of familiar faces posing on the back of Travis’s parent’s yacht, Giselle had enough.
She closed the app and threw the phone beside her.
Tossing back the last of her tequila, she hopped up to get herself a refill from the bottle on Heavy’s desk.
While pouring, she eyed a framed photo nearby.
Bringing the cup to her lips, she grabbed the frame and examined the faces.
A young Heavy was visible in the middle, and he was not a small kid.
On each side of him was an older version of himself, so she assumed it was his father and grandfather with a big Sapien Automotive sign behind them.
She caught the pride on their faces and couldn’t help but smile.
The shop had been in business for like fifty years.
“Being nosy?” Heavy asked when he opened the bathroom door.
His manly Dove soap now permeated the air as he dried his curls with a towel and emerged in gray sweats and a fresh V-Neck t-shirt. Giselle set the frame down and leaned against the desk.
“Absolutely,” she answered. “So, how long have you worked in this shop?”
“All my life.” Heavy sighed and moved toward the sofa.
He grabbed the blunt from the ashtray and sparked it back up.
“My grandfather opened this place before I was even born. He ran it with my pops, but he had other plans for his life. He ended up in the streets, so I spent a lot of time around here as a kid. When I got older, I had a love for cars, so I started working here after school. Grandpa got old, and I didn’t want to see the place close, so I went to school, got my degree, and took over. He still thinks he runs shit, though.”
“That sounds nice. Family. A real one.” Giselle pushed herself off the desk and moved past him so she could sit on the couch.
“Where is yours?” Heavy peered into his cup before taking a swallow of tequila.
“What’s left of them are right here in town. You might know my cousin, Maisie, and her husband.”