Chapter 4

4

LARKIN

T he garage was barely warmer than outside, but the little heater Rhodes had plugged in while he sat on the floor of the garage working on his bike helped. Kind of.

I was still freaking freezing.

I sat a few feet away on an overturned bucket next to the open toolbox. I wasn’t sure what half of the little parts spread on the tarp in the bike did, but I wasn’t too concerned about all those little pieces.

I was too busy staring at the way Rhodes was stretched out on his back, his shirt riding up to show those indents on his hips and a thin trail of dark hair disappearing into his jeans. He grunted as he tightened something that was probably important.

All I knew was it did awesome things for his arms in that shirt, the edges on the t-shirt clinging to his muscles.

I reached for the bottle of water at my feet, trying to keep from swallowing my tongue.

“Can you hand me the flat head screwdriver?” he called, letting his head fall back against the floor as he studied the machine over him.

I plucked it from the tool box, leaned forward and placed it into his open palm.

“Thanks.” Another grunt that did weird things to my stomach.

“So, what are you going to do with this one?” I asked, my hands clinging to the plastic bottle in my hands. I was glad for the cold since it was the only way my body was cooling down anytime this century.

His arm stretched higher, pulling up more of his shirt.

And there’s abs one and two, making their first appearance to today’s programming.

I barely caught myself from licking my lips.

I was such a masochist.

Why had I thought it would be a good idea to be trapped in this little garage with the guy I had only been in love with for the last five years?

“Not sure,” he replied, distracted. His other arm reached around to grab something.

Abs three and four, ladies and gentlemen.

“I think I’m going to keep this one,” he continued, completely unaware that all my girl parts were about to stage a revolt and divorce my brain.

I shivered, and not from the cold. My wolf volunteered to take over if I couldn’t get my hormones under control.

I closed my eyes, focused on breathing through my mouth so I couldn’t inhale any particle of his scent.

“Keep it?” I echoed, trying to focus on something that was not skin or muscle.

“Yeah. Might be fun to have a bike.” He finished tightening the screw and slid out from under the motorcycle, sitting up smoothly and looking at me. “Obviously not now, but in the summer, it would be amazing.”

I found myself nodding. “It would be pretty awesome.”

He reached for the rag at his side, wiping his hands. “Besides,” he said, his brown eyes flashing at me before he winked suggestively, “chicks dig a guy on a motorcycle.”

The cold in the garage instantly settled into my bones, a block of ice forming in the pit of my stomach as I imagined Rhodes speeding down a winding mountain road with some nameless girl’s arms and legs wrapped around him.

I barely suppressed a growl. I wasn’t sure if it was me or my wolf that was more offended by the idea. My head dropped as I rubbed my forehead.

Focus, Larkin.

He cleared his throat. “Or maybe I’ll sell it. I could use the money as a down payment to get an apartment in town.”

My head came up so fast I got dizzy. “You’re moving?”

He got to his feet and crossed the garage floor to the workbench on the far wall, digging through a jar that held loose screws and nails. “Yeah. After graduation, I’ll be eighteen. I’ll get a place in town. I already talked to Harry. He said he would hire me at the garage.”

“What about college?”

His shoulders stiffened for a second before he turned and came back, dropping to a crouch on the other side of the bike. His eyes met mine over the seat. His lips were smiling, but his eyes were flat.

“I told you, Lark,” he said, “I’m not a college kind of guy.” He gestured to the bike. “ This I’m good at.”

“You’re good at a lot of things,” I blurted out.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he chuckled and went back to working. “You’re a good friend, Larkin. But we both know I suck at school.”

“Because you don’t try,” I retorted. “But that’s all an act, and we both know it, Rhodes. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

He gave me a strange look.

“I told you I could help you study,” I finished sadly.

All he offered was a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks. But I think I’m good.”

I wanted to argue. Wanted to shake his amazingly broad shoulders until he admitted I was right and decided he was going to apply to college.

Preferably the same one I was going to be at.

“What time is it?”

I glanced down at my watch. “A little after two.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked, looking up.

I shrugged. “Not really. The pancakes were a lot.”

He nodded.

“But you’re hungry,” I guessed. Rhodes was a bottomless pit. The last three years, Mom had taken to adding extra food to the pantry because Rhodes had been over so often.

She still did that, even though he hadn’t been over much this last year.

He grinned wryly at me. “You know me so well.”

I laughed. “Want me to go make you something?”

He dropped the wrench he had been using and stood up, stretching his arms up over his head to work out the kinks.

Look quick, folks! The rarely viewed abs five and six have just made an unexpected cameo!

With a sigh, I forced my eyes shut.

“You okay?”

I opened my eyes to see Rhodes staring at me, his face creased with concern. But at least his arms were at his sides and his shirt was where it was supposed to be.

Shaking my head, I stood up. “I’m fine. Headache or something. Maybe the weather. A drop in barometric pressure or, you know, temperature.”

I was babbling.

Stop. Refocus. And, go.

“So, food?” I gave him a too-bright smile, attempting the fastest change of subject in the history of the world.

He smiled slowly, nodding in agreement before he paused and made a face.

“Why don’t I take a shower first?” He held his hands out in front of him. They were black with grease and grime.

“You’re done?” I asked as I looked around the floor. Half the bike was still scattered around us. I’m glad he knew what the final picture of this puzzle looked like, because I was completely lost.

“For today,” he replied. His lips hooked into a devastating grin that made my knees a little weak. “Hey, Lark, how much do you love me?”

That was a loaded question I didn’t think either of us was ready to tackle.

But I already knew where his mind was headed. “You want me to make you spaghetti?”

He flashed a row of even, white teeth at me, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “If you’re offering.”

This boy had a serious love affair with carbs. He never missed spaghetti night at my house when Mom made it. In the last year, she had been teaching me her recipes. Spaghetti was one of the first things she taught me. It was my dad’s favorite so we always had the ingredients for it on hand.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’ll go make food. You go shower. You stink.”

Something wild and playful lit his eyes and, for a second, I thought he would lunge and grab me. It was definitely something I would have expected from Rhodes a few months ago.

But the light dimmed and then extinguished completely.

He rocked back on his feet with a tight smile, hooking his thumbs absently in his belt loops. “Cool. I’ll meet you back at your place?”

I nodded, heading for the side door of the garage. I pushed against it, but it wouldn’t budge. Looking out the small window, I could see the snow had piled up even more.

“Um, Rhodes?”

He was across the garage and at my side in a second. “What’s wrong?”

I tried the door again. “It’s stuck.”

He craned his neck to look over my shoulder, peering out the window. “Whoa. That’s crazy.”

“I guess I’ll go out the front door,” I said, stepping back and right into a wall of muscle.

Okay, I had definitely lied.

He smelled amazing. Like diesel engines and something masculine that was just Rhodes. Thankfully the cold garage kept him from being a sweaty mess.

His hand fell to my hip on instinct, steadying me as I swayed on my feet. His long fingers tensed, tightening for a fraction on the waistband of my jeans.

Quickly he jerked his hand away.

“Shit, sorry. I think I just ruined your jeans.”

“It’s fine,” I murmured, brushing by him. I was never washing these jeans again.

I might have accidentally let my butt brush against him as I moved around his body. And I might have smirked a bit when he sucked in a sharp breath.

My wolf hummed her approval as I headed to the door that led inside and opened it. I could walk through his house blindfolded and never hit a thing, that’s how well I knew it. Rhodes used to come up with any excuse for me not to come over until I finally made it clear I didn’t care what it looked like or how wasted his dad was.

The living room was definitely cleaner as I made my way through it to the main hall. I could hear Rhodes coming in behind me as I pulled the door open to a frigid blast of arctic air.

“Shit,” I muttered, grabbing my coat from where it hung on the banister. I quickly pulled it on and headed out into the snow.

It took an eternity to cross the space between our yards. By the time I got into the house, I had waded through snow almost mid-thigh. My jeans were coated in the white powder as I stepped inside.

Shutting the door, I quickly stripped out of my jeans and walked down the hall to the laundry room, tossing them in the large sink basin there so the snow could finish melting off. My gaze lingered on the smudges of grease on the waistband before I snapped myself out of it. I hurried up the stairs, freezing my butt off before making it into my room and grabbing a pair of leggings and tugging them on.

I was halfway through making the spaghetti sauce when Rhodes let himself in.

“It’s freezing ,” he muttered, coming into the kitchen.

Apparently he had the same idea I did because he headed back to the laundry room with what looked like a pair of extra jeans in a plastic grocery bag.

I counted the number of times my spoon made a full circle around the edge of the pot. Anything to not think about the fact that Rhodes was taking his pants off on the other side of the wall.

“Can I help?” he asked, coming back into the room.

I jerked my head to the pantry. “Grab the noodles?”

This had become a timeless dance we both knew the steps to instinctively.

I chopped veggies, he got out the plates. I stirred the sauce, and he started boiling water. Each action by one of us had a counter reaction by the other that was so simply domestic it made my heart ache.

Why couldn’t everything with us be this freaking easy?

We made stupid small talk as we worked, and by the time we sat down to eat, I was ready to snap if he mentioned the weather one more time.

For a minute there in the garage, it was like old times.

Now in the quiet house, it felt like we were being smothered by all the unspoken things hanging between us.

We ate in silence for several minutes before my phone chirped at the end of the table. Rhodes reached for it and passed it to me, but not before seeing the name lighting up on the screen.

KYLE MCALLISTER

His fingers tightened around the glass and plastic before he all but shoved it into my waiting hand.

His fork scraped against his plate, the sound setting my teeth on edge.

“Kyle, huh?” Rhodes finally grunted, not looking at me.

I set the phone down without opening the message. “Yeah. We’re... friends.”

Another grunt. “Friends, huh?”

My hackles rose, my eyes narrowing as I glared at him. “Yes, Rhodes. We’re friends . Friends text each other.”

“And apparently kiss each other,” he muttered under his breath.

“Ex cuse me?” I set my fork down and leaned back in my chair. “What does that mean?”

He looked up at me with a blank, almost bored, expression. “I’m just saying. I saw you two at the tree lighting. Or, should I say you three .”

I folded my arms and waited, knowing he wasn’t done.

Rhodes braced his forearms on the table. “I never pegged you for a ménage kind of girl, Lark.”

My eyes went wide. “That’s a healthy dose of judgment coming from the manwhore of GPA.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. “You’re not that kind of girl, Larkin. That’s all I meant.”

“And what kind of girl am I?” I snapped. Anger blazed like a furnace in me. “That’s right. I’m supposed to be good, old Larkin. The girl who sits back and has zero life.”

He breathed deeply through his nose. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” I demanded. I balled my hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

He sighed. “You’re a good girl.”

My jaw dropped open. “So, that means what? That I can’t date? Kiss a guy?”

Or two.

He snorted, pushing back from the table. “By all means, do whatever the hell you want with whoever the hell you want.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “Is it so hard to believe someone, or two someones, are interested in me?”

“I didn’t say that,” he snapped, raking a hand through his hair. His eyes flashed. A hint of darkness that shouldn’t have thrilled me the way it did.

It made me crave more.

“Or am I supposed to join a convent and wear a chastity belt to make you happy?” I retorted, months of pent up frustration and anger fueling me as I broke. “Is good little Larkin supposed to stay a virgin forever to keep you happy?”

Okay, that might have been too far, but I was hoping he would think the redness on my cheeks was from anger and not bashfulness.

Rhodes tossed his napkin onto the table and stood up suddenly, retreating from the conversation and me. “Wow. You know what? Forget I said anything.”

I stood up just as fast, recklessly needing to get this out. “I guess I should be glad you’re finally saying something to me.”

He whirled, dark eyes narrowing. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I’ve noticed how you’ve made a point to push me away since last summer,” I snapped, finally letting it all out. I came around the table and stopped in front of him, giving him a small shove. “You’ve spent the last few months running away from me so many times it gave me whiplash!”

His dark eyes glittered, his chest heaved. “Larkin—”

“No!” I cut him off. Heat seared the backs of my eyes, pricking ferociously.

Crap.

I was going to start crying any second.

I was an angry crier. It was something I hated, but since I rarely got super angry, it wasn’t something I thought about much.

But Rhodes made me absolutely furious.

I swallowed hard, blinking hard to keep the tears at bay as long as possible. “I get it, Rhodes. Okay? I freaking get it.”

“Get what ?” he hissed.

I looked away with a sniffle. Mortified that I was about to start crying in front of him, I barely managed to speak. “You don’t like me... like that . Fine, okay? I’ve accepted it. But you can’t get mad when I try to move on.”

“Larkin.” His voice was so soft, so kind, it made me flinch.

I took a step back, swiping at the single tear that had escaped. “Don’t, okay? I know this is my problem. You can’t control how you feel any more than I can. But I miss my best friend, Rhodes. That’s the worst part.”

I blinked and more tears spilled down my cheeks.

I went to wipe them away, but Rhodes beat me there. His large hands, rough and calloused from years of working in the garage, came up to frame my face and raise my eyes so I had to look at him.

Like the independent woman I wasn’t , I squeezed my eyes shut to avoid meeting his gaze.

He chuckled softly, a thumb smoothing over my cheek to catch the tear there. “Open your eyes, baby girl.”

My body shook. My stomach took a steep dive.

I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes.

“You should go,” I whispered, eyes still closed.

I needed him to leave so I could pick up all the pieces of my heart from the floor.

“Larkin, look at me ,” he ordered quietly.

Slowly, I lifted my lashes, blinking a few times to clear my blurry vision.

Sure enough, Rhodes was looking at me with nothing but kindness and softness.

He sighed softly. “I’m so sorry, Lark.”

I gulped down a sob, the last shards of my broken heart crashing down around me. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

His eyes drifted shut for just a second, agony twisting his features, before looking at me. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t control how you feel,” I whispered. He couldn’t help not loving me any more than I could stop loving him.

“No,” he agreed, his eyes searching mine. “You can’t.”

I put my hands over his wrists and gently pulled them away from my face. “It’s okay, Rhodes.”

I took a small step back and started to turn when his hands shot out and grabbed my waist, spinning me against the hard wall of his body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered once more before claiming my mouth with his.