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And then there’s also all that shit he said and did to me last night—a side of Troy no one has ever seen. He hooks up, and he had boyfriends, but those things he said, he’s saved just for me, so yeah, those other guys can suck my dick.
Me: Simmer down, big guy.
Dixon: LOL. Sorry. I shouldn’t talk about your stepbrother like that.
I shouldn’t have let my stepbro stick his dick in me either, but one of those things will definitely happen again.
I don’t reply to Dixon because if I do, I’ll just end up asking him about Ash. It’s not like he needs Dixon to coordinate the date he won, because he lives with Troy. Fuck, heliveswith Troy.
I grumble the whole way to my apartment door, where I’m surprised to find Brenner and Taylor waiting for me.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“Came to chill with you until we can go out tonight. A shit ton of people are hitting up Crave. We’re dragging your boring ass with us,” Taylor tells me.
“Bet,” I tell my friends.
Even though part of me doesn’t want to go, I could use a drink. I need to do something to get Troy off my mind.
21
Troy
I’m a machine.
Knocked out three cars already, and I’m breezing through a brake pad adjustment on a Honda Pilot.
I live for this. Nothing like the smell of the garage, getting my hands dirty, and problem-solving my way through all the shit that comes up on any given day. When I’m on a roll in the shop, I really feel like I’m living the dream. I can only imagine what Glen would think of that, given some of the asshole comments he’s made over the years:“That’s a good way to build work ethic,”or,“I’m sure those skills will come in handy when you level up,”or even better,“Someone’s gotta do it.”
If he could see me in the zone like this, maybe he’d get it. Mom would. At least, there was a time when that would have mattered to her. Who knows anymore?
“What the hell are you doing?” Walker says as he approaches the pit. In a company cap that’s angled to the side, he tucks his tablet in his shop apron as he gazes down at me, his forehead wrinkled up.
“Brakes. Why?”
For a moment I worry I’m so on cloud nine that I might be adjusting brakes when I should be checking an engine. But then I remind myself I fucking saw the brake pad before I started, so I’m fine. Damn, I hope surgeons don’t ever have moments like this.
“I didn’t know you knew this song,” Walker says, scratching his thick beard.
I hadn’t thought about it, but I’d been singing along to the Lana Del Rey song playing overhead—from Walker’s playlist.
“How could I not know it? You’ve played it every day for the past two years.”
He has a point, though. I don’t usually burst into song like I’m in a musical. At the same time, I’m self-aware enough to know what all this is about. My mood. The zone. The fucking singing.
It’s from spending last night with Atlas.
It wasn’t just the fucking around; although, that wasepic. It was that deep shit he told me about Christian. Yeah, it pissed me the fuck off. Sucks having a homophobe kissing my ass and commenting on my Insta, then shit-talking behind my back. But really, knowing that Atlas stood up for me made a bad thing almost worth it. Because it reminded me of the kind of man he really is. The kind of man most people don’t see. My protective Titan, willing to stick up for me, regardless of my friends and I thinking he was being an ass. All to protect my feelings.
Walker’s smirking, so I’m wondering if he can read all this shit on my damn face.
“So, I haven’t been here thirty minutes, and the word’s already gotten around,” he says. “Either you’re seeing someone, or you got into a wrestling match with a vacuum.”
My lips push together.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it? Something serious.” I open my mouth to comment, but he’s already saying, “Ah. Not denying it.Veryserious.”
Fuck Walker. Clearly, we’ve been working together too long if he can pick that up from me, though I’m hardly being subtle.
