“Thanks,” she says, biting down on her bottom lip.
“Well, I need to get back to work.” I rush out of the door like a fool just as she opens her mouth to say something. I turn back, needing to see her again.
Chapter Nine
Vivian
I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding because my heart hasn’t caught a steady pace yet. I’ve been waiting for him to come see me all afternoon after Mr. West had said he was coming up soon to bring me paperwork. My entire body has been alive with anticipation, and yet the moment the knock came, I practically leaped out of my seat.
This morning when he was talking to his professor, I couldn’t look away as he leaned over the vehicle, turning the tool, the muscles in his back flexing. My thighs began sweating so much that I could feel the wetness sliding down them. I practically bit out a moan, but then I remembered why I’d come down there and went straight to Petrol to get some answers on his last tune-up.
Simon’s surly attitude hadn’t made things any easier. My body had only been more excited by his presence, and I nearly jumped into his arms, as if I had any right to do so. It wasn’t the right place or time for any of that nonsense. Simon was healing, and so was our friendship, if you could even call it that.
I’ve barely taken a seat when the door to the office slams wide open. “Simon,” I gasp, pressing my hand to my chest.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay. Is something wrong?”
“No, I just forgot to ask how your first day was.” He gives me an off-kilter smile that I’ve seen him toss to his mom or sister when he’s trying to get his way. I’m trying to not melt in my seat.
The brain cells in my head team up and finally work together to respond with a simple, “It was nice.” He stares at me like he’s hoping for more, so I continue. “A little confusing, but I think I can get it.”
“Well, you’re pretty smart. I’m sure you’ll grasp everything quickly.” He runs his hands through his thick, mussed-up hair. “How often are you going to be here?” I’m not sure if he’s anxious for me to go or if he wants me here, so I reassure him. “Your dad said pretty much every day after school, but don’t worry. I won’t harass you.”
He closes the distance between us, dragging me out of my seat so that we’re standing dangerously close. “Vivian, you’re not harassing me. I want to see you.”
I shake my head because I don’t believe it. At least, not entirely. I turn my head to gaze out toward the loading bay. He doesn’t care for it, and he grasps my chin with his strong, rough hand, turning my face to look into his. “I know I’ve been a jerk over the years, but it’s complicated.”
“Is it because I’m too young for you?” He might not remember our conversation, but I do.
“For now.”
I nod, and then confess. “I know.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m guessing we’ve already had this conversation.”
I gently stepped away, moving toward the sofa, taking a seat. “Yeah.”
“That I can’t remember, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s why you’re mad at me?” he asks. His eyes were so soft and gentle as he wonders, and I don’t know how to explain that I’m not quite mad, and at the same time I am.
“It’s complicated.”
His phone goes off. “Damn it.” He pulls it out of his extremely tight jean back pocket. “Excuse me. My teacher is calling me.”
He raises a finger, telling me to hold on a moment. “Hello, Professor Smith. Yes, yes, I’ll be down there in just one moment.” He leaves the office, forgetting to close the door behind him.
I stand up to close the door, but then my attention is immediately drawn to his gait. He has a limp, and it looks worse than it did this morning, but he tries to ignore the pain. I wonder if his parents know how bad it is. I watch him walk to the front where a woman in a tight pencil skirt with a sleeveless pale pink blouse that clings to her chest enters and smiles at him politely. She looks elegant and mostly professional, except for the obvious overly full set of makeup she has on in this brutal heat and the fact that she’s one of his teachers. A deep-seated sense of discomfort washes over me. Is it a general jealousy of a pretty woman, or gut instinct? Then, her eyes roam over him, and not because he’s recovering. No—she has that hungry look that I had this morning. It’s clear she admires his figure, like all women notice a hot man in just a sleeveless shirt.
“Simon,” she says his name in a coquettish way. I almost expect her to twist a strand of her hair around her fingers. She hands him a file folder, pressing her hand on his arm a little too friendly for my liking.
I can’t handle it. He doesn’t like men near me, and he gets growly. After what happened in Vail, I am about to put my foot down. I don’t care if he doesn’t remember it. I do. Before I can open the door all the way and go down the steps, they are interrupted by his mother. The flirty teacher quickly makes her exit.
And then Mrs. West drags him over to his station a little further before saying something that sounds likewhat the hellorwho the hell, but I can’t make it out. Mr. West comes into the garage area, and then Simon looks up at the office, catching me staring. He slams his hand down on his workstation, and I can see his mouth move to make out the words,son of a bitch. Is something going on between him and his teacher? Or was she just another woman interested in him?
