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“Does it matter?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and I notice he has tattoos of different cars and gears with letters written across his forearms that read,If it’s fast, I built it.
His gaze looks over my uniform, and he quirks a brow. “I have never met anyone who attends Spencer Academy to have a job.”
That makes sense. I don’t think anyone who has ever attended Spencer Academy knows the meaning of a job.
“Now you do.”
He doesn’t need to know why I have a job because it is none of his business, but that doesn’t stop me from asking, “How would you know?”
He smirks. “Because I graduated last year, and I’m the only one who has ever worked that attended there. I don’t remember seeing you there.”
“A lot of kids attend there,” I challenge.
He angles his head. “I would have remembered you.”
Is he flirting with me? I can’t tell. His expression is hard to read, and you could tell he doesn’t talk much.
I avert my gaze. “I transferred to Spencer Academy to complete my senior year.” My eyes find his again. “Do you ask everyone this many questions when they ask about the Jeep?”
He uncrosses his arms and slides his hands inside the pockets of his overalls. “I’m sorry. I was curious. No one at Spencer Academy would want to buy a Jeep.”
He has a point. The cars I see the kids drive are high-end cars you see at exclusive dealerships.
I look past him and realize I’m late. “Look, I really have to get going.”
“You want to stop by after work?” he asks.
“I can’t. I don’t have a way to get here. Kinda why I’m inquiring about the Jeep.”
“I could bring the Jeep to you so you could look at it.”
I turn my head and look at the Jeep, admiring the rugged tires and shiny black paint. I look up, and he is waiting for me to decide. “That’s not possible, and I don’t even know you.”
He stretches his hand out. “I’m Lane Turner, and I own Turner Racing.”
My hand twitches to shake his hand, but I notice his hands are still dirty with oil. It would take me a long time to get that off my skin. I can’t touch groceries with dirty hands.
“My name is Aura Rayne. I don’t mean to be rude. I would shake your hand, but it’s dirty.”
He lowers his hand. “Right. Sorry,” he says, looking at his dirty hands and sliding them inside his pockets. He looks embarrassed, and I feel bad for pointing it out.
“No, it’s just… I’m supposed to be getting groceries for my boss. They have been kind enough to let me stay there. It would be very rude for me to tell you to come over and show me a Jeep when I’m supposed to be doing their shopping.”
A look of surprise crosses his handsome face. I silently signal Henry with one finger, telling him I will be over in a minute. Lane twists his body to see who I’m signaling and sees Henry give me his signature nod.
Lane turns back around and says, “Who do you work for, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“The St. Claires.”
His brows rise. “You mean Kalum St. Claire’s family?”
I nod, and he shakes his head slowly in disbelief.
“Is there a problem?” I ask defensively.
He’s probably judging me. I don’t need any trouble and quickly realize it was a mistake coming here.
