Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
We both got out.
Kyle stared at me over the faded roof. “To where?”
I pointed to the rundown two-story at the end of the street. “Hendrix’s house is right there.”
“No.” He adamantly shook his head. “No, no, no. He’ll set fire to my car.”
Had Hendrix been known to set fire to the odd car? Yes. Then again… so had I.
“He won’t set your car on fire, Kyle. He can fix it.”
Whether or not he would fix it was a different story. But everyone knew that outside of paying a mechanic, Hendrix and the guys were the best bet for fixing a car in Dayton.
Without much choice, Kyle helped me push the Honda. It rolled to a stop in front of the rusted-out basketball goal in the drive, and a sense of dread filled me. This was going to be a disaster.
Hendrix still hadn’t responded to any of my texts, so he clearly didn’t want to talk to me. He was probably still in a shit-ass mood, but I needed him to help Kyle. Who he hated for whatever reason.
On a sigh, I trekked up the steps and used my key to unlock the door.
The sound of the PlayStation came from the living room. Pulling in a breath, I moved across the entrance way and leaned against the frame. My gaze went straight to Hendrix on the couch. I couldn’t help but study his bare, tattooed chest, my name scrawled over his ribs. Every time I saw it, my heart clenched.
He stared at the screen, ignoring my existence, while his bandaged fingers made aggressive moves over the controller. Evidently, his mood hadn’t improved. Asking him to fix Kyle’s car was going to go down like a shot of puke.
“What?” he finally said, still not looking away from his game.
“You didn’t answer my messages. Are you okay?”
“Just fucking great.” A loud gunshot rang out from the TV when he blew the head off one of the avatars.
“Did you get suspended?”
Another barrage of gunfire broke out. “No. Any more fucking questions?”
Great. Good chat. So much for softening him. I plucked the fifty I’d swiped off the offering tray earlier from my bra. I couldn’t afford to lose it, but it was Kyle… He’d helped me plenty. “Want to earn some money?”
Hendrix’s gaze homed in on the money in my hand. “What do you need?”
“A car fixed.” I didn’t specify whose car. I was hoping this could be an agree-before-you-know-the-terms kind of thing. “It’s in the drive.”
He tossed down the controller and then shoved up from the couch, muscles rolling and flexing as he closed the distance between us. His fingers brushed mine when he took the cash from my hand. “Can’t promise this’ll cover it…” It was going to have to.
He headed to the front door, swearing under his breath before he stepped through it.
I followed him off the porch and toward the drive.
Kyle’s eyes widened as Hendrix approached. He did a little shuffle like he was about to bolt. “Oh, no. That’s okay, Hendrix. You don’t have to. I’ll just…push it.” He frantically yanked open the driver’s door and tried to move the old Honda on his own. It didn’t budge.
Hendrix stopped by the car, towering over Kyle’s scrawny frame. “Get your ass out of the way.”
Kyle stumbled before falling to the grass and dropping his inhaler. I helped him up and led him to the steps, biting my tongue before I cussed out Hendrix for being an asshole.
Kyle said something about Robert, but I wasn’t paying attention. Every bit of my focus was on Hendrix.
The setting sun danced over Hendrix’s muscles as he popped the hood and leaned over the engine bay.
There was something so sexy about him fixing things with his hands. The grease blackening his forearms, the streaks smearing his chest and abs… This was not good for my already-threadbare willpower when it came to him.
I forced myself to look away.
Thirty minutes later, the little engine whirred to life.
“See,” I said to Kyle. “It’s fixed.”
Hendrix left the car running when he got out and slammed the door. His stern gaze met Kyle on his way to the porch. “Time for you to take your Stormtrooper ass back to the Death Star.”
I knew he knew that was the equivalent of a “fucked your mom” joke to Kyle.
Kyle huffed and pushed to his feet. “I would never be a Stormtrooper!” And, of course, of all the times for him to grow a set… This was the hill he wanted to die on. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you for fixing my car.” Then he looked at me with sad eyes. “Goodbye, Lola.”
He stomped off to his car and got in before reversing in what I thought was supposed to be a dramatic fashion but really wasn’t.
“Great,” I said, staring up at Hendrix. “Now you’ve upset him.”