Chapter 4 Amy
I’m standing there in the middle of the shop, looking back and forth between Lewis and his friend.
RJ sent me off on one of his quests this morning—the kind of quest that involves me getting a guy three times my size to pay up.
Mission complete. It’s the kind of bread-and-butter job I can do in my sleep, so why am I standing here now, freaking out?
I might not look it, but deep down inside, I’m a mess. Panic stirs in me. I hate this.
“I’m Donovan Wolinski,” the guy says, offering a hand. “Think you’ve already met Lewis…”
My gaze shifts back to the Dodge driver, and this time, my handshake is limper. I can’t help but recoil when I feel his skin pressing into mine.
“She’s got one hell of a handshake, huh?” Donovan smirks, and Lewis frowns in response.
I snatch back my hand.
What the hell is he doing here? This garage is my safe space. My turf. A dude-free zone.
RJ doesn’t count. He’s my landlord, boss, and friend all rolled into one, but he’s also more like a father figure to me, what with him being a friend of my dad’s, and all. When Dad died, he kind of stepped in—especially since I left Brooklyn.
Speak of the devil.
I hear his heavy footsteps thumping down the stairs, and I glance up.
“Raven gave me a call. She just wanted to check up on you,” he adds with a smile.
“For a change,” I mutter under my breath. “I’ll call her back. Let her know that I’m still alive since we last spoke two hours ago.”
Lewis has rattled me, and as I take a step back, my foot collides with a tire, my elbow sending a toolbox clattering to the ground.
“Jeez, Amy. What’s up with you?”
“What’s up with me is that this shop is a total shit show. I mean, look at this place—it’s basically a death trap!”
There’s also the fact that the Campus Driver seems to be messing with my head. It’s insane—the guy must be releasing some kind of jammer hormone, or something.
RJ turns back to the other two. “Ignore the tantrums—you get used to them. She’s just like her dad, only with boobs.”
“Gross, Ronald Junior.” I shoot him a dirty look.
Donovan raises an eyebrow. “ ‘Ronald’?”
“Nope,” he says.
“Ronald Junior,” I repeat.
He glares at me. “You’re fired.”
I shrug. “Your call.”
RJ “fires” me every other day. That’s just how we roll.
I bend down to scoop up the tools, silently grateful for an excuse not to have to make eye contact with Lewis Conley.
He’s trying to catch my eye, though—I can sense it.
In fact, he’s staring at me like I just told him I’m the Virgin Mary, and I can feel myself freaking out. A wrench slips free from my hand.
“You sure she’s okay to work on our cars?” Lewis asks RJ. “Looks like she’s got trouble with her coordination.”
Just as I’m about to slide the wrench back into the toolbox, I freeze, slowly straightening and turning to look at him.
“Shit. Don’t poke the bear, man.”
Donovan snickers. “Last time he pissed her off, she popped his shoulder.”
I take a step closer, raising the wrench in challenge. Today’s a heel-free day, so I’m shorter than him—but since when has that ever stopped me? Times like this, all my self-control goes flying out the window.
“Want me to show you just how coordinated I can get?”
I jerk my chin at his fly, flashing him a knowing look. He did come looking for someone to get working on his nuts and bolts, after all…
“A nineteen-millimeter?” He laughs. “Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it.”
I know perfectly well that the diameter of his dick has to be more than those nineteen millimeters, but there’s no way I’m letting him win this round.
“I’ve got a feeling it’ll be more than enough.”
“Trust me—it won’t.”
“Trust me—it will.”
He sighs. “Fine. I’ll just have to show you how wrong you are.”
“Ready when you are.”
There’s a fire starting in the pit of my belly, my fingers wrapping tighter around the wrench, but I hold his gaze all the same.
“Okay, kids. Take it easy,” RJ calls over. “Lewis, keep your pants on. Amy, drop the weapon.”
“Aww, man!” Donovan pipes up. “I wanted to see her in action.”
RJ snatches the tool away from me, while I keep my eyes locked on Lewis.
I can’t look away. Now that the pressure is dropping, all I can think is just how drawn I am to him.
It’s unsettling, to say the least. I don’t even know him, but it’s already the second time he’s wound me up, and no matter how much he pisses me off, my heart is racing hard.
It’s like I’ve suddenly got this split personality—the Amy I know by heart, and some other random girl who just popped up out of nowhere. This is out of control.
Donovan clears his throat. “Did you have time to think over Lewis’s offer, Firebird?”
I glance back and forth between them, taking in the two very different expressions plastered over their faces—Donovan’s eager, excited; Lewis’s impossible to read.
“What’re you guys talking about?” RJ asks.
“We need new drivers for next year.”
The mechanic shoots me a quick look, and I know exactly what he’s thinking—the work would be way lower key than my usual side hustles.
“That’s a great idea.” He nods eagerly.
Donovan flashes a thumbs-up. “Agreed. So, what do you think?”
“I already accepted.”
“For real?”
He and Lewis stare at me.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Don’t you remember? I whispered it in your ear. Maybe you were kinda distracted, though.”
“Maybe I was kinda too busy getting assaulted.”
“That wasn’t assault,” I snort. “That was me demonstrating how I can handle myself.”
Donovan slaps his friend’s shoulder. “So, is that a deal? You think you could start onboarding next week, Lewis?”
“She’s my trainee, dude. I’ll decide when we start.”
“Your trainee, huh?” Don cocks an eyebrow.
“Back off, buddy.”
“Okay, okay…” Don holds up his hands. “Sorry, man. You’re the boss.”
I don’t get the looks they keep shooting each other, and I’m even more confused when Lewis’s brown eyes slide over to me. I can’t meet his gaze. Not without a flush creeping over my cheeks, anyway.
Urgh. Make it stop.
“Monday, twelve thirty. The south parking lot,” Lewis rasps.
“Okay.”
“Don’t be late.”
“Okay.”
“And drop the attitude, too.”
I laugh. “How about you drop the”—hotness?—“warm and welcoming vibes,” I finish, smirking at him. “You’re just too nice, you know? Makes a girl feel awkward.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Same here,” I snap back.
“Wonderful.”
“Amazing.”
“Have a great day, Firebird.”
“Right back at you, Campus Driver.”
And with that, I drop my gaze and turn on my heel without so much as a glance at the other two, crossing the shop in a few quick strides, taking the steps in threes until I reach the safety of my apartment. I need to punch something. Hard.
“I think this could be the start of something special,” Donovan yells out to Lewis.
“Shut up, man!”
Stepping into the hallway, I swing open the door so fast it bounces against the living room wall.
“You trying to get my water to break early?” my sister shouts from the couch. “Can’t you at least try to slip in quietly? You scared the crap out of me!”
“Maybe you need a good strong shot of barbecue sauce to steady your nerves,” I offer.
I make a beeline for the fridge, ignoring my sister’s hard stare as I cross the open-plan kitchen and grab myself a soda, gulping down its sweetness. This whole Campus Drivers thing—is it really a good idea? In terms of money and rep, it’s solid. But in terms of mental health, I have my doubts.
“Weren’t you supposed to be working with Ronny today?”
“I am. I’m just waiting for his two customers to beat it, and then I’ll head back down.”
“They’re cute.” She smiles at me. “Is that why you’re freaking out?”
“I’m not freaking out!”
“Honey, I’ve literally known you since the day you were born—you’re freaking out.”
I shake my head. “How do you even know they’re cute?”
“I just swung by to see whether you got home okay.”
“You need help, Raven.”
“You left early this morning. Where were you?”
Here we go again… Officer Raven, reporting for duty.
She knows I help RJ out when he needs a hand calling in his debts. And she hates it. I try to keep a low profile so she doesn’t worry more than she already does.
“I went to pick up a part from a supplier.”
“What kind of part?”
“A transmission.”
She eyeballs me. “Right.”
“ ‘Right’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just ‘right.’ ”
“Right…”
I drain my soda and toss the bottle in the trash.
“That goes in the recycling.” My sister frowns. “Green for glass—remember? Charlotte and I are trying to teach Joey about the planet. Lead by example, Aunty Amy!”
“Oh my God!” I slap a hand over my forehead. “I forgot all about your latest baby-brain obsession. You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m gonna: I actually think this pregnancy is worse than your first one.”
As soon as I say the words, I regret them. I cringe silently, stooping to put the bottle in the right trash can, keeping my back turned to her. Bringing up the time she was pregnant with Joey is triggering for her, and I get it—those were bad times.
“I’m going to my room. Lemme know when the coast’s clear?”
“Those guys really are freaking you out, aren’t they?”
I hear her laugh trailing off as I slope out, shutting my bedroom door behind me and cranking up the music before falling back onto my bed and gazing up at the ceiling.
Am I freaking out? No—it’s worse than a freak-out.
I can’t think of the right word. Whenever I find myself backed into a corner, my strategy is always the same—go heavy or go home.
It might not be the best personality trait, but it’s all I’ve got.
My mind drifts back to Lewis, to how my body reacts every time I see him, to the week ahead.
I’m not freaking out—I’m a ticking time bomb.
12:29 P.M., AND I’M READY. I spot Lewis leaning against his car, flipping a coin in the air, waiting for me. He’s punctual, that’s for sure. And he’s even cuter when he’s focused. Fucking annoying.
“Come on, Amy,” I grumble to myself, clenching my fists.