Page 18 of The Mechanic


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“Oh my God, Keith. Of course not. He’s your best friend. You should know better than that!”

“I should, shouldn’t I?” He sneers and rakes his eyes from the top of my head to my feet. “But I guess I don’t.”

He moves her to the side, and she’s about to launch herself at him but I give her a quick shake of my head.

Keith pins me with a look, and I huff in exasperation, running my hand through my hair. “Keith, I didn’t mean to. We didn’t mean to. Like what she said, things happened.”

He points an accusing finger at me. “How could you? She’s my sister.” His voice is thunderous, and I have never seen this side of him in all the years we’ve been friends.

“You think I’m playing her? You think this is a random hookup? Have you met me? Have you ever seen me with anyone?”

This shuts him up because he knows it’s the truth. He tried to set me up with countless women, only for me to turn them all down, preferring to spend my nights fixing vehicles.

“I understand your anger. I really do. And I tried to stay away from her out of respect for you, but fuck, Keith. I can’t and I don’t want to. Nora’s mine. She will be until the day I die. I’m serious about her.”

“Serious?” He turns to Nora, balling his fists at his sides. “I’ll give my right nut if he stays with you until the end of this month.”

“Then be prepared to live with one ball for the rest of your life because I’m never letting her go.”

The silence is so loud, and I mentally prepare myself for another punch.

Keith’s face is flush with fury, his eyes blazing. He gives me and Nora one long look before he turns around and stomps to the door, closing it with a bang that reverberates throughout the space.

Nora hangs her head at the sound of his car revving outside, his tires screeching.

It could’ve been worse. I never intended to hide Nora, so that confrontation was bound to happen. It just happened sooner than I hoped.

I stride to her and pull her into my arms. “It will be okay, Nora. Not today, maybe not this week or this month. But he’ll come to accept it eventually. He may be an asshole sometimes, but your brother loves you. And he knows I’m no player.”

6

NORA

It’s New Year’s Eve and we’re just a few hours away from the town celebration.

Noah said everyone would be there. I’m hoping Keith will be too. It’s been three days and still no word from him. I called him several times and even dropped by the house.

Radio silence.

I hate this. We’ve had our share of fights and disagreements, but he’s never given me the silent treatment ever, which is why I want him to show up tonight.

The town square bustles with activity—kids running around, men carrying tables and chairs, women fixing the decorations. The teens are probably in charge of the music because they lounge in the area with the large speakers, laughing and eating chips.

The door to Mrs. Dawson’s bakeshop jingles as I enter, and I’m met with the aroma of hot chocolate. The shelves are mostly empty to my dismay, but when she steps out from the kitchen, her face lights up and she beams. “Sit down, dear. I just finished baking my honey and peanut butter blondies. I’ll let it cool and give you some. You like hot cocoa and bourbon balls?”

The grin on my face says it all because Mrs. Dawson immediately grabs a pastel yellow mug that says, “All or Muffin.”

I spend the next thirty minutes chatting with her, and when she finds out I’m living with Noah, she forces me to take home a box of lemon meringue cheesecake and pecan pralines.

Give me two more weeks and I’m pretty sure none of my clothes will fit anymore.

The door closes behind me, and since I keep checking my phone for any text from Noah—he’s buying paper cups—I don’t notice the woman in front until I bump into her.

“I’m so sorry.”

I raise my head and lock eyes with Allison. If looks can kill, I’ll drop dead right now. She crosses her arms across her chest, and her smile appears forced.

Allison raises one brow and scoffs. “Why are you still here? Desperately waiting for him to notice you? Let me spare you the heartbreak, girl. You’re not his type. I mean, look at what you’re wearing.”

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