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“You so much as touch a single hair on her head and I’ll make sure you never throw another fucking ball again, feel me?” I don’t wait for an answer as I shoulder past him and chase after Alexa. My long legs eat up the space she’s put between us. I reach out and grip her hand, pulling her to a stop. She spins on me and yanks her hand free.
“Fuck. You,” she snarls.
I smirk. “Right now?”
She scrunches her face in confusion. “What?”
“You saidfuck youand I asked if you meant you’d do it right now, because I’m down.” She stomps her foot and huffs out her annoyance.
“You’re such a dick and I can’t wait to move out!” Fuck, that hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, shocking the both of us.
“Uh, for what?”
I shrug my shoulders suddenly feeling vulnerable. “For snapping at you, you can come see me anytime you want.”
She throws her hands in the air. “Then why were you a dick?”
I decide to be honest. “It pissed me off seeing you talk to another guy.”
Her brows raise to her hairline, surprised by my confession. “Reaper, you’re not my boyfriend, fuck, you’re not even my friend. Who I talk to or fuck isn’t—” Before she can finish that fucking ridiculous sentence, I snake my hand out, grip the back of her neck and pull her forward until she is pressed against me.
“You think for a second that I am going to let anyone else touch you, then you’re out your fucking mind, jail bait. No one is fucking you butme!”
“Pretty territorial for someone with commitment issues, don’t ya think?”
Her words are like a bucket of ice water being doused over me. I release her and step back. “You’re right. I do have commitment issues but if you knew why then you would understand. Enjoy the rest of your day. I’ll see you at the car after practice,” I say before walking away from her, without a single glance back.
I fucking hate that she can push me and force my hand. I need to keep my head clear and focus on my goal which is to go pro. Alexa Sutton is a distraction I can’t afford. Darius and my sister flying out this weekend couldn’t come soon enough. I need someone who is on my side and I hope with them being here it will help Alexa see I’m not a fucking bad guy. I never meant for Cody to die but each day I’m learning that what happened to her was out of my control. Did I love her? Yes. But I also know I can’t stop living my life because she died. Leah was right, Cody wouldn’t want me wasting my life. Alexa is right, she does need to move out because I’m starting to blur the lines between just fucking and wanting more for the first time ever.
But why does the idea of her moving out and going home to an empty penthouse every night fill me with sadness? Fuck, am I falling for the jail bait?
Alexa
The rest of the day passes by at a freaking snail’s pace. I get side glances from the girls and the guys make it no secret that they are checking me out. Lunch was spent outside under a tree by myself. I even text Katie to tell her how my day was going, and she added Leah and Val to the chat. Unlike Corvin, I don’t blame Beckett’s girlfriend for my sister’s death. She actually seems nice. Leah and her both say they are excited to meet me. They also told me that they all plan to fly out here for Corvin’s first game back and asked me to keep it a secret. It feels weird talking to them and being friendly, when I have plans to ruin Corvin.
I check the time on my phone and see I only have twenty minutes before I’m finished my first day of community service. I decide to quit sweeping the workshop and look around to find it empty. Yes! I drop the broom and make my way over to the Excalibur, which is on a Mustang’s body. A project car that the class is working on. It reminds me of Cruella Deville’s car but it’s stunning. Its V8 engine sits on a block beside it, and the interior is a plush white leather with the original dash still intact and polished perfectly. It’s a convertible, this car isn't like any of the ones you see these days, no electronics or computer, the roof doesn’t have a button to push to close it for you, it’s all done manually. I run my hand down the side of the door and smile. I would love to build something like this. I would love to just restore an old school car back to its former glory and stare at it knowing that I was the one who did that.
The hood folds up on either side and I peek inside to see that they have already started to assemble things. I make my way over to the engine and see that the timing chain and the cam tower are leaking oil. I shake my head and grab a ten-mil wrench and reach in to start tightening the timing chain.
“You shouldn’t be doing that,” I scream and drop the wrench. It clangs against the ground as I turn to find a middle-age man standing in the doorway, with blue overalls on that are covered in oil and other stains. I remain silent as he slowly makes his way over to me, grabs the wrench off the ground and looks over the engine frowning. “What were you doing?”
I shuffle awkwardly from foot to foot as I answer him. “The timing chain is loose and I was tightening it, the cam tower is also leaking oil.” He snaps his gaze at me and frowns.
“I told those idiots not to put the oil in until after the engine was fitted,” he says, clearly exasperated.
“Sorry, I’ll be on my way now,” I say as I turn to leave and hope to God I didn’t just fuck up my chances of getting into this class.
“Wait.” I freeze mid step and slowly turn back to face the man. “Who are you?”
“Uh, I just started today and have to clean the workshops every day—”
“You’re the community service kid who is trying to get into my shop class?” I cringe and nod stiffly.
“Yep.” He looks me over not in a sexual way but in a way that shows me he’s trying to figure me out.
“How did you know about this?” he asks, motioning to the engine.
