Chapter 17 Adrienne #2
He steps close enough that I have to tilt my chin to meet his eyes. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, voice rough, reaching past me for the button-up hanging from a hook behind me. The word brushes against my ear, low and warm. I swear my knees forget how to function for a full second.
“You said you wanted me to put a shirt on. Just trying to keep you happy.”
I take a step back, trying not to melt under his panty-melting smile. “You’re really annoying.”
He smirks faintly as he slides one arm into the shirt. “That’s one word for it.”
I roll my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. “Fine. Pretend you’re not listening. But you are. Because I’ve thought about this, about us, and I’m not letting you bulldoze me again.”
That earns me a pause. His expression shifts, less teasing, more… cautious or even curious. “Go on.”
I lift my chin, trying to steady my voice. “You can keep pretending this is casual. That it’s just about the Mustang, or sex, or whatever excuse you need. But I’m not pretending anymore. You and I? We’re not finished, Scotty. Not by a long shot.”
He has a button through the loop, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s fighting a smile. “You came all the way down here to tell me that?”
“I came down here to remind you that you don’t get to walk away just because you’re scared.”
“Scared?” he echoes, slow and quiet, like he’s tasting the word.
“Yeah.” I swallow. “Of me. Of us. Of being more than the guy everyone thinks you are.”
For a long moment, he doesn’t say a word. Just stands there, head tilted slightly, watching me with that unreadable calm that drives me insane. Then, because he can’t help himself, his mouth curves. “Your family is right, you know? You are the bossy one.”
My hands go to my hips. “You’re deflecting.”
“And you’re staring,” he says evenly, nodding toward my gaze, which, fine, might have drifted again. I roll my eyes and turn away before he can see the flush creeping up my neck.
“Finish putting on your damn shirt and listen.”
He smirks as he tucks it in. “Already am.”
The bastard knows exactly how to disarm me, just enough heat, just enough humor. It makes me want to strangle him and kiss him in the same breath.
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Okay. Here it is, without the theatrics. Last night sucked. You were hurt. I was hurt. I poked, you detonated. We’re both great at pretending we don’t care until we do.
And you were right—neither of us has said what we really want.
Maybe we don’t even know yet. But I’m done acting like this is nothing. ”
His eyes don’t move from my face. I force myself to keep going.
“I’m not asking for a label this second. I’m not even asking for an apology.” I swallow. “I’m asking you not to run. I’m asking you to stand still with me long enough to see what this is before we torch it again.”
He buttons the last button, slowly. The silence stretches. I draw a steady breath. “Thank you for letting me say that.”
Something in his jaw loosens. He nods once, a small concession that still feels like a crack of light.
“Is there anything you want to add?” I ask, softer now, testing the waters.
His gaze skims my mouth, then returns to my eyes. “Not right now.”
It’s honest. It’s maddening. It’s also… him.
“Fine.” I square my shoulders. “What do you want to do then?”
He tips his chin toward the Mustang, voice low and even. “Let’s get to work.”
We work in silence. Well, he works. I mostly alternate between pretending to focus and watching the way his forearms flex when he tightens a bolt.
The air between us is thick enough to chew through.
Every time he passes behind me, the heat of him brushes my back, a ghost of contact that makes my pulse skip.
He doesn’t even seem to notice. Or maybe he does, either way, he’s just better at pretending it doesn’t bother him.
He moves around me with infuriating ease, calm and unbothered, while I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a live wire. The rhythmic sound of metal against metal only amplifies the tension stretching between us.
Finally, I slam the wrench down on the workbench. “Okay, enough.”
He glances over, one brow raised, sweat darkening the collar of his shirt. “Enough what?”
“This,” I say, waving my hand between us. “The pretending. The quiet. You're acting like nothing happened. I can’t keep standing here like I didn’t say everything I said earlier. Either we talk now, or this is it. I can’t keep doing this.”
He straightens slowly, wipes his hands on a rag, and leans a hip against the car. His face is unreadable, but his tone is maddeningly calm. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
I exhale, pushing hair from my face. “You humiliated me at that bar.”
His jaw flexes. “You mean the way you humiliated me when Dolly told me some guy was hitting on you and you gave him your number?”
“Oh my god, this again? That is not the same thing.”
“The hell it isn’t.” His voice drops lower, steady but sharp. “You wanted to get a rise out of me. Congratulations. It worked. So I did it in return. Now we’re even.”
I blink, thrown by his raw honesty. “You think I wanted to start that fight?”
He snorts. “I think you wanted to see if I’d care.”
My stomach twists because he’s not entirely wrong. While I didn’t ask for the guy's number and had no intention of telling Scotty about the encounter, I enjoyed the look on his face after Dolly told me why he was so angry.
“Like you didn’t do the same thing,” I say quietly. “You made sure everyone in that place saw me be humiliated.”
He looks away, dragging a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, well. That’s not exactly my proudest moment.”
Something in his voice softens the edge of my anger. I let out a long breath, my heart still hammering. “For the record, if I’d heard from anyone that you’d been flirting with another woman, dancing and getting her number… I would’ve reacted the same way.”
That gets his attention. His eyes lift to mine, searching.
“I’m not saying it was right,” I add quickly. “But I’m human. And jealous. And clearly terrible at hiding it.”
He studies me for a beat, expression unreadable, before muttering, “Guess we’re both shitty at communication.”
I laugh once, short and tired. “Yeah, you think?”
For a moment, the silence between us softens. Then I shake my head and sigh. “We can’t keep doing this, Scotty. The fighting, the jealousy, the mixed signals. We need—”
He tilts his head, waiting. “Need what?”
“Ground rules,” I say finally. “Or boundaries. Or… something that keeps us from blowing each other up again.”
He frowns, clearly thrown. “Ground rules about what?”
I force myself to meet his eyes. My throat is dry, but I say it anyway. “About us.”
His brows lift slightly, that maddening smirk tugging at his mouth. “Us?”
I swallow hard. “About us… hooking up.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and electric.
His gaze lingers on me, slow and assessing, like he’s deciding whether to laugh, argue, or pull me closer.
Then, with a rough exhale, he pushes off the car and steps toward me.
His eyes narrow, jaw working as he studies me. “So that’s what we’ve decided this is?”
I cross my arms, matching his stare even though my pulse is doing cartwheels. “Until we both say it’s something different, yeah. That’s what it is. Friends with benefits.”
“Friends with benefits,” he repeats slowly, like he’s testing the words. His voice drops lower. “Is that what you want?”
I let out a laugh that gives me away; it’s too quick, too defensive. “I don’t know what I want, remember? You already called me out on that.”
He chuckles softly. “Yeah, I remember.”
I lift my chin. “I don’t know exactly what I want, Scotty, but I know it’s more than just hooking up. I want…” I pause, the words catching in my throat. “I want more.”
I still can’t say the words, still can’t make myself brave enough to even admit that I’m in love with him.
His eyes soften, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I want that too.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I’m not willing to give you up.” He drags a hand over his jaw, taking a step closer. Then another. He starts to circle me slowly, voice dropping to that deep, husky rumble that always wrecks my composure. “Now, about those rules.”
“Rules?” I echo, distracted. He stops behind me, close enough that the heat from his body slides over my back.
“I’ve got a few ideas.”
Of course he does.
He leans down, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear. “Rule number one…” His voice vibrates through me. “If you’re fucking me, you’re not fucking anyone else. No flirting. No entertaining other options. You want this? You want me? Then I’m it. And I’ll do the same.”
He moves around to face me, stopping just close enough that I have to look up at him. His thumb brushes my chin, tilting my face up. The look in his eyes is pure challenge. “Deal?”
My mouth goes dry, but I manage to whisper, “Deal. But that includes you trying to make me jealous with one of your many past flavors.”
His grin cracks wide, dangerous and sexy. “Flavors, huh?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Yes, I do. And you’re right. I’m sorry for that. It was childish. Immature.”
The apology is so simple it almost knocks the wind out of me. “Thank you,” I whisper, surprised at how much it matters to hear him say it.
He nods once, then steps even closer, close enough that I can feel the faint brush of his breath against my cheek. “Rule number two,” he murmurs, “When you’re in my garage, I fuck you the way I want to, when I want to.”
My breath hitches. “That’s not exactly fair.”
His hand slides around the back of my neck, fingers spreading wide, his grip firm but not rough. His thumb strokes the edge of my jaw as he leans down. “Yeah, and you like that about me, don’t you, sweetheart? You can swing your dick in the boardroom all you want, but with me—that’s not happening.”
The sound of his voice, that deep, commanding drawl, shoots straight through me. Every muscle in my body tightens in anticipation. My voice comes out as a whisper. “Deal.”
His lips curl into a slow, wicked grin. “Good girl.”
The two words hit me like a spark to gasoline. I try to speak, but he’s already closed the distance between us, his hand sliding down to my waist, pulling me flush against him. My heart slams against my ribs.
“Rule number three,” he murmurs against my temple, “This stays between us. No one’s business but ours. I get you want to talk to your girlfriends, but I’m not having this thing ruined because Axel or Aiden decides to play overprotective big brother and beat my ass.”
I hesitate, because that one hurts a little. I don’t want to be his secret. But he’s right, if we want to figure this out, we need to keep the noise out. The family, the town, all the opinions that would bury us before we even start.
After a long beat, I whisper, “Yes.”
“That’s my girl.”
Before I can react, his mouth is on mine.
His tongue slides against mine, and I’m gone.
The kiss deepens fast, too fast, until I’m instantly overtaken with lust. I clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more.
His hand drags down my spine, slow and possessive, until it rests at my hip.
He presses a palm to my shoulder, firm enough to make me shiver.
“Down,” he murmurs.
It takes me a heartbeat to understand what he means. Then his hand applies a little pressure, guiding me. My breath stutters as I sink to my knees in front of him, the concrete cold beneath my knees.
When I look up at him, his eyes are dark and hungry. His voice drops, deep and rough. “You want to suck my cock, baby?”
A shiver runs through me so hard I can barely breathe. I lick my lips, nodding, the words spilling out so breathlessly I sound like I’m begging. “Yes… please.”
His mouth curves in that lazy, devastating smile. “Then go on.”