Chapter 2
Two
Remy motions me outside at work the following morning.
He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled on top. “About last night…”
I raise my brow at him expectantly, not throwing him an inch of rope.
“Thanks for taking care of that. Of Jacqui, I mean. It was a dick move.”
Nodding, I purse my lips together. “You owe her an apology.”
“Yeah.” He shoves his hands in his coverall pockets and kicks a pebble across the asphalt. “I will as soon as she starts her shift. Was she pissed?”
My flat expression says it all.
He makes a pained face. “Fuck. I’ll make it up to her.”
That gets my mind spinning. How, exactly? By trying to screw her? Shaking my head, I walk back into the service bay.
Near closing time, we’re cleaning up the shop area when Remy claps me on the shoulder. “Want to snag some burgers?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s swing next door first and see if New Girl wants one. It’s the least I can do.”
“Mm-hmm.” Should’ve known. This is more about Jacqui and less about dinner.
We take the Mustang, cranking the windows down and rolling into the Self-Serve a moment later. It’s impossible to miss Jacqui at one of the pumps, her long hair cascading across her shoulders. I pull alongside her so Remy can do the talking.
He flashes her one of his charming smiles. “You hungry, New Girl? We’re grabbing burgers and I’m happy to bring you one back.” He dips his chin. “On me. I owe you one.”
She tilts her head, as if contemplating, and I respect her making him sweat it out.
“That’d be awesome,” she finally says, rattling off her order. She leans in closer and our eyes connect briefly before she levels Remy with a serious stare. “And if you forget the ketchup and extra salt, you’re never getting back in my good graces.”
He chuckles. “Duly noted.”
We’re back in thirty minutes, tempting chargrilled aromas wafting up my nose. My stomach snarls as we carry the chow into the office where Jacqui waits.
Her face beams when Remy hands her a burger, and we turn quiet while we dig in—except for the moan this girl emits after swallowing the first bite.
My buddy and I both jerk toward the sexy sound then share a look.
Shoving some fries in my mouth, I search for something to say, but my mind blanks…
stuck on that throaty whine of pleasure.
We plow through the food, exchanging few words, and I shoot my balled-up wrapper into the trash can. The other two follow suit, sinking their shots, and Jacqui raises her arms brandishing a victorious smile. It’s cute.
Cute? Since when do I think anything’s cute?
Remy sparks up a joint, taking a long hit and passing it to me. I suck in a drag, holding it captive for several seconds before exhaling, and offer it to Jacqui. She hesitates for a split second then accepts it, takes a toke, and passes it back to Remy.
As a mellow high kicks in, Jacqui breaks the ice.
“So,” she says. “You guys are mechanics, drive cool cars…what’s next on the agenda?”
“You first, New Girl,” my buddy prompts.
She doesn’t hesitate. “I want to be a writer. I love books—always have. Writing them would be a dream come true.”
“Do you write anything now?” I ask.
She nods, almost shyly, and a swath of her golden hair falls into her eyes. “Short stories. Mostly stupid love stories.”
“Stupid?” I challenge.
She shrugs and pulls her knees up into the chair and hugs them close to her body. There seems to be volumes she’s not saying, and apparently, she’s not going to. “What about you?”
I don’t hesitate. “I want to be on the water. Captain a boat, work with boats, something to get me out on the ocean.”
“Working outside would be cool,” she agrees.
“I’d prefer it. Being stuck inside all day working on cars sucks.”
“Especially with smelly coworkers,” Remy adds.
I flip him the bird.
He belches loudly, seeming pleased with himself. “I’m gonna party ’til I’m dead.”
Jacqui’s head whips toward him. “That’s your life plan?”
“Essentially.”
“Your parents must be so proud.”
Remy leans back in his chair, the front two legs lifting off the floor. “They’re the ones who turned me onto drugs and booze in the first place.”
“No shit?” Jacqui looks dismayed, but I can attest he’s telling it like it is. The Remington household is…not like any other I’ve been in.
He hums. “My mom comes from money, and my dad doesn’t do squat except mooch off her and flirt with every skirt he can. My mom has her overbearing moments but neither one acts much like a parent. Our house has been one long party since I was born. I’ve been watching adults get lit for years.”
Her mouth gapes.
“Eventually, I joined in, like my older brother. Inevitable.” Remy stares at the ceiling, unperturbed.
“That’s terrible,” she sputters.
He brings his chair back to the floor and cocks his head. “Is it?”
This appears to throw Jacqui off balance, maybe making her question something so outlandish, or challenging her perception of what’s right from wrong based on the warped societal beliefs we grasp at whether they really make sense or not.
“I don’t know,” she finally admits.
Remy’s eyebrows raise.
Jacqui’s expression morphs. “Hold up. Your rich parents want you to be…what, a playboy?”
I snort, glancing at my best friend.
“Not exactly,” he answers. “But for now, they’re not hassling me.”
“Why work at all? Why as a mechanic?” she asks.
He shrugs. “I dig cars, and I’m required to be gainfully employed. Any job will do.”
Her mouth opens, shuts, clearly confused. “So, you’re happy?”
Remy smirks. “Hell yeah. Are you?”
Not this utter bullshit again. I groan, pressing my fingers to my temples. “That’s a loaded, existential question. Happiness is fleeting. No one is happy all the time.” If at all.
Jacqui stares at me like she has a million questions.
You don’t want to know, baby.
Her eyes burn a hole through me as I fetch my Marlboros, jerk the pack to unearth a couple, and silently offer her one.
She reaches across the desk and pulls one out.
I move closer to light hers with my Zippo, momentarily absorbed by how her raspberry lips wrap around the filter.
Her hair falls dangerously close to the flame, and I catch it and lift it over her shoulder.
It’s silky soft and a faint tangerine scent wafts my way, chasing away the acrid stench lingering in the room.
The cherry flares with her inhale and she tilts her head back, exhaling the smoke toward the ceiling and giving me a glimpse of her graceful neck.
“I love the idea of happily ever after,” she says, keeping the topic alive. “We all deserve that.”
My lips quirk, head shaking. “You’re a romantic, Jacqui. We deserve nothing we don’t earn.”
“Careful, New Girl. You’re about to uncork Philosophical Mick, and he’s almost impossible to turn off,” Remy taunts.
Flipping him another bird, I continue. “But if we aren’t bloodsucking assholes spreading discord throughout the land, we have the opportunity to be happy, at least some of the time.”
Jacqui looks like she’s trying to work out whatever crap I just spewed, then she raises her fists and throws some air punches. “Hallelujah. Thought we were going to have to take it outside.”
I meet her gaze straight on, fighting the urge to smile. “Think I can take you.”
She freezes for a few heartbeats then quickly excuses herself and disappears into the bathroom. Did something rattle her?
Remy stands. “I gotta bail.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
When Jacqui returns, we bid her goodnight. Something like disappointment flits across her features before she brightens and thanks us for bringing her dinner.
“Thank fuck,” I mutter when five o’clock hits on Friday, ready to be done with this FUBAR job. What should have been a simple exhaust manifold replacement turned into a three-day odyssey when the bolts got stuck in the cylinder head.
I stow my tools, walk to the sink, and slather Goop degreaser on my hands and forearms.
A bunch of us are going to the movies tonight to see Poltergeist. I’m sure we’ll party after, and I plan to offer up my place since my mom’s in Europe for most of the summer writing articles for World Traveler magazine.
A couple of hours later, I’m in a growing queue outside the theatre with Remy, Karin, Terry, and Kendra. Terry fills me in on the grueling summer conditioning schedule his coaches provided. From my vantage point, it’s only doing his physique a favor. The dude’s jacked.
The line disappears around the block and I’m glad we got here early enough to snag decent seats.
The rest of the crew arrives—Jeremy, Cora, Vinny, and Jacqui, who is going to freeze in that clingy, tiny, rainbow halter top that wraps her tits like a present.
And those 501s? Tight. In all the right ways.
I can’t stop staring…because damn, she’s pretty.
Shit, pretty doesn’t even begin to cover it.
We start inching forward and once inside, the couples head for concessions and Vinny, Jacqui, and I enter the auditorium to save seats.
I glance down the row, immediately distracted by Jacqui’s shapely ass.
She cold busts me doing it and my laugh escapes as I jerk my eyes toward the curtained screen.
I’m trying my damnedest to ignore the pull of this golden-haired girl, but she keeps luring me back with her enticing package and innocent ideas about happily-ever-afters.
The rest of our group returns, and I snag the aisle seat while everyone else settles in.
Jacqui winds up between Vinny and me. The lights dim, curtains open, previews air, and the flick begins.
It’s immersive from the jump, the tension thick a few minutes in when Carol Ann awakens, climbs from her bed, and walks downstairs where her father has fallen asleep watching TV.
The screen crackles with off-the-air static snow—and the girl approaches.
Jacqui’s forearm accidentally grazes mine, and it’s a jarringly direct hit to my groin. After that, despite doing my level best to focus on the movie, I’m hyper aware of her presence.