Chapter 18 #2
Returning with the tool, I move back to the front of the car and wave for Steph to climb into the driver’s seat once more.
“Turn the key again and hold it in the start position,” I instruct her.
Then I tap several times with the metal tool on the starter in the hopes it’ll jostle the contacts to connect.
Luckily, it does, and the engine roars to life.
Steph shouts in surprise, and I smirk, unlatching the prop rod and slamming the hood closed. I push on it to make sure it latches properly and cast my gaze up to meet hers through the windshield. She’s smiling at me.
Sixteen.
“It’s your starter,” I tell her, moving around the hood to the driver’s side where she’s still seated with the door open.
“Is that going to be expensive?” Her voice is laced with concern, and I hate to think of her struggling for money.
“Depends. A large part of the cost is the labor, but the placement of this one means it’s not actually that difficult.” I shrug. “I could do it for you.”
“Oh, no, that’s not necessary. Thanks, though, but you’ve done enough. I’ll have Joe take a look in the morning.”
Joe?
Who the fuck is Joe?
A wave of possessiveness rises, swift and white hot, nearly choking me with its intensity.
“Um … my mechanic?” Steph says, but it comes out like a question. She stares up at me, her expression completely taken aback.
Shit, I absolutely did not mean to say that out loud.
“He’s a-a friend,” she continues quickly, no doubt eager to soothe the cocktail of roiling emotion she must see on my face. “I met him through Aidan. They’ve known each other for years.”
Oh.
My bad.
I take a deep breath, willing my skyrocketing pulse to settle and smoothing out my features. I know I don’t have any right to behave this way, and I definitely don’t want to scare her off after this tentative truce we’ve found. But, goddammit, she’s mine.
In my heart, she always has been.
“Sorry.”
“S’ okay.”
“No, that was uncalled for …” I start, as a thought occurs to me. “Wait—do you mean little Joey Sutton?
“Well, he’s not little anymore, but yeah.”
“That kid was such a goofball. I seem to remember him being a bit of a prankster.”
She nods, fiddling with her seatbelt.
“Still is,” she replies, and the fondness in her voice again has my blood pressure spiking. Jesus, I need to calm the fuck down. She said he’s a friend.
Steph reaches for the handle to pull the door closed, but I don’t budge from where I’ve been leaning with an elbow propped on the upper edge.
“I should get going. The boys are probably wondering where I am.”
“Right. I’ll follow you home.”
“You don’t have to do th—”
But I cut her off, silencing her with a mock glare.
“I’m going to make sure you get home safe, and there aren’t any more issues with your car.
” My voice brokers no argument, so she just nods, giving the door a light tug to dislodge me from my perch.
I back off, allowing her to slam it closed, waiting until I hear the lock click before turning to jog back to my truck.
The drive to her place is quick and uneventful. Steph rolls her eyes when I exit the truck to follow her up the porch steps of a tired-looking bungalow, but I think I catch her mouth twitching in a way that suggests she might be fighting a smile. It’s fleeting yet encouraging.
My footsteps on the worn wood are loud in the quiet night as I come to stand before her at the door.
“Thanks for tonight. Your help, I mean.” Her eyes are cast downward, her short hair falling in her face, but I can clearly see the smile she’d been trying to suppress when it spreads across her face. It’s soft and tentative and so, so sweet.
Jackpot. And, seventeen.
I’m unable to resist reaching out, tucking the loose strands of her cornsilk hair behind her ear.
Steph’s eyes slide up to meet mine, and I get lost in those warm chocolate beauties.
I don’t think I’m mistaking the hopeful glint I see in them.
My hand lingers by her ear, and she nibbles on her lip.
I lick my own, leaning in ever so slightly …
But then I catch myself. After cornering her that first night at Aroma’s, I’m unwilling to kiss her again without permission. I need to rebuild trust. I need to not push her before she’s ready. So I’m going to be patient. It may very well kill me, but I’m going to wait until she asks for that kiss.
With any luck, by then I’ll have her begging for it.
So I halt my forward momentum, instead sliding my hand down to cup her cheek. The need to keep touching her is overwhelming. We’re still near enough to share breath as I whisper onto her lips, “Please give me a chance, Steph.”
I can just make out the thrumming of her pulse as she tips her head back, exposing her neck to the light of the moon. She groans, squeezing her eyes shut.
“I don’t know, Riley. I don’t know what to do.”
“You feel it, though, don’t you? This connection? It’s still there …”
She lets out a shaky breath. “Yes.” My heart leaps. “But I can’t just forget—”
She’s cut off from saying anything more when the porch light flicks on.
Steph jumps back from me, startled, the pair of us blinking furiously as the door opens and Alex appears.
His gaze bounces between us, taking in my still outstretched hand and the faint flush to his mother’s cheeks, evident despite the dim yellow lighting.
He remains behind the screen door and refrains from saying anything, but I watch as his face hardens.
I swear this kid has the worst timing ever.
Dismayed, I drop my arm, offering him a curt nod.
He doesn’t return it, doesn’t acknowledge me at all as his eyes shoot questioningly to Steph.
And then it happens again. I watch as she mentally retreats from me.
Can practically see her rebuilding her protective walls brick by brick.
Her face just … shuts down. I’m losing her, dammit.
Any headway I’d made tonight is gone, just like that.
Why is this so hard?
Every encounter with her is two steps forward and then one step back.
“I have to go,” she whispers, not meeting my eyes as her son pushes the door open for her.
“Steph—”
But she’s already slipped inside.