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Sterling’s brows arched, a teasing warmth sliding into his voice. “You don’t trust me?”

A humorless breath left me. “I don’t trust any man. They will always let you down.”

The words hung there…much too honest, and Sterling nodded, like I’d just given him another clue into my psyche.

Fuck, I was pretty sure I had.

Babs snorted. “Smart girl. That’s the only sane policy. I founded the I Hate All Men Club, and let me tell you—membership is booming.”

Heat crept up my throat. I pushed back from the barstool, desperate for some space and somewhere not filled with so much testosterone.

“Thanks for the burger,” I told Babs. “And the Cokes. And the…whatever this circus was.” I reached for my wallet automatically. “How much do I owe⁠—”

Sterling’s hand brushed mine, warm and callused, and…decisive. He pushed my wallet gently back toward me. “I’ve got you,” he said.

My heartbeat tripped. “I can pay.”

“I know.” His voice wrapped around my spine. “But I’ve still got you.”

Hattie made a swooning noise. Babs rolled her eyes.

I did not swoon. I refused to swoon. Instead, I slid a bill onto the bar in a gesture that felt very much like raising a battle flag. “Thanks, but I’m good,” I said firmly.

Sterling didn’t push it. His eyes just held mine in a way that made the back of my knees reconsider their structural integrity.

I needed distance.

Now.

I walked quickly toward the front entrance where the Hollow’s old door greeted me with a long, complaining creak, and I stepped halfway through before stopping short.

Oh. Right. I had no idea where Mack’s shop was.

I pivoted back toward the room full of witnesses…unfortunately landing directly on Sterling’s unreadable stare.

“Um,” I said, lifting a hand like a timid schoolgirl. “Where’s…uh…the mechanic? Mack’s place?”

Sterling rose from his barstool in one slow, predatory motion that felt less like standing and more like the beginning of a hunt.

My soul left my body.

I slapped a hand out between us, palm outward, squeaking, “Directions! Directions are fine! Just…verbal directions. No escort needed. No accompanying. No…hovering.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, amused and far too confident.

“Relax, darlin’,” he said. “I was just going to point.”

He lifted his hand and, mercifully, simply pointed past me toward the dim street. “Two blocks down. Left at the carved bear. Can’t miss it.”

“Right. A carved bear. That seems simple enough to find. Thank you.”

I bolted before anyone could say another word.

The door creaked shut behind me, sliding over my nerves like his eyes were still on me…even on the other side of it.

I didn’t look back, because something told me if I did…I might not keep going.

CHAPTER 8