I reel back. “Of course not.”
Gunner’s stare is intense and probing. “Then what are you going to do?”
I look up at him, see the challenge in his stare, and I lift my chin higher. “If no one else wants to help this side of town, I’ll do it myself.”
It was my dream to be a part of the Lady Luck Society, but the world didn’t end because Carol Kinsey said no. The school still needs painting. The basketball court still needs fixing. Those wild dogs still need to be caught before they hurt someone else.
I think of poor little Rebecca Jergenson who had a run in with one of the dogs last month and got herself bitten. The sun doesn’t rise and set on the Kinseys approval.
Gunner shifts a little closer to me. “How do you plan on getting it done?”
“I might not have money or connections, but if I take it little by little, I can do it.”
His eyes soften from their usual, cold stare and it almost feels like Gunner Kinsey is proud of me.
Until he says, “You’re only one person.”
I lean toward him, feeling a familiar fire in the pit of my stomach. “I’m therightperson.”
Rebel Hart the ‘pretty face’ turned into Rebel Hart ‘the mechanic’ overnight. I didn’t listen to any of the naysayers who said I couldn’t fix cars because it would be a ‘waste of a pretty face’. And I didn’t let the auto repair instructors embarrass me out of my love for pink and fashion either.
I’m not the type to let the world define me. Every time someone pushes me into a box, I turn the box on its head.
“Watch how I change this neighborhood with my own two hands.” I lift my arms to prove my point.
Gunner takes my hand again, and I inhale sharply at his touch. My eyes drop to his mouth like a magnet to steel.
“This hand is busted. You’ll need some help,” he says with the finality of a doctor.
“I told you. It’s not that bad and even if it was, it’s just a burn. I’m a mechanic. I get injuries like this all the time.” I avert my gaze. “Besides, I don’t needyourhelp. I’ll figure it out on my own.”
“No.”
My eyes shoot back to him. “No?”
He nods, doubling down.
I bark out a disbelieving laugh.
Gunner remains unbothered. “If you plan to do everything you listed, you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Just then, the screen door flings open and mom hurries inside, holding a melting bag of ice. “Um, is there a reason a food truck just drove up outside?”
I lean past Gunner’s bulk to see my mom better. “What?”
A car horn blasts through the air and mom waddles back to the doorway. Whatever she sees outside makes her jaw drop.
“What is it?” I ask urgently, taking note of her expression.
“The hockey team. They’re… they’re outside. With paint brushes.”
My eyes scurry to Gunner. I notice the confident tilt of his chin and the ghost of a smile on his lips.
I grab his arm and jerk him closer. “What’s going on, Kinsey?”
“I told you.” His eyes dart to my lips for a second and it makes my knees weak. “I brought breakfast.”
CHAPTER
