of this clutch replacement, but that was another issue.
After our trip into town, Evan had spent the day working on the Pontiac. I’d helped him get it off the trailer and into the garage, and since then, he’d been in his own world over there. Music played in the background, and Sasquatch hung out with his daddy while he worked. Other than his dog, he existed in a bubble of solitude.
I stood and put my hands on my hips. My hair was up in a bun, some of the loose tendrils held back by a red bandanna I’d folded into a headband. The shop was warm, so I’d shed my sweatshirt, opting to work in a black tank top and jeans.
Evan was on the far side of the shop, stripping the Pontiac. He crouched next to the car, his back to me. His shirt stretched over his broad shoulders and back—all thick, bulging muscle—and his tattooed arms were nothing but trouble.
And those hands. God, they were huge. Wide palms and thick fingers.
He stood, his movements deceptively graceful. He was big, but not brutish, like he had perfect control over every inch of that body.
A body that also made a delightful pillow.
Tearing my gaze away from him before he caught me staring, I rolled my eyes. Evan Bailey was as unattainable as a man could be. He was so closed off, I was surprised he even had a dog, let alone any humans in his life.
Besides, that wasn’t why I was here, and I certainly wasn’t going to stay. At the rate I was going, I’d finish the clutch tonight and be on my way to Iowa sometime tomorrow.
Which meant I needed to call my mom.
Then again, I should probably be sure the car was ready for the trip before I gave her a heads-up. That way I could give her a more accurate arrival date. You never knew what could go wrong when you took out a transmission.
I was running into a little trouble with the flywheel, and I didn’t want to bother Evan, but YouTube would have the answer. Everything that I hadn’t learned from my dad’s crew, I’d learned from YouTube.
My phone rang, so I pulled it out of my back pocket, a little spark of anxiety lighting like a match. But it wasn’t Dad. I stifled a groan. It was Simone. That wasn’t necessarily better. Against my better judgment, I answered. After all, we’d been best friends—even roommates—for years. Maybe she was reaching out to apologize.
“Hello?”
“Oh my god, I’m so glad you answered,” she said, her voice thick with urgency.
My heart rate kicked up and my breath felt trapped in my throat. Had something happened to my dad? “What’s wrong?”
“What’s the code for the copy machine?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but for a second, nothing came out. The copy machine? Was she serious? “It’s on a sticky note in the cupboard right above it.”
“Is it really? Hey, you’re right. Thanks, babe.”
I scrunched my nose. Babe?
“Oh, wait, while I have you on the phone, we’re almost out of staples.”
“What?”
“Staples,” she said. “You know, the pointy little silver things that hold paper together.”
“I know what staples are. How do you not know how to order staples? Ordering office supplies wasn’t even my job, it’s yours.”
“I know, but you’re such a doll, you’ve always done it for me. You had the… I don’t know what it’s called, the thingy on your computer.”
“I didn’t have a thingy, I just had the website bookmarked.”
“Huh. Okay, well, how do I order staples? You know what, I have a better idea. Why don’t you just swing by this afternoon and you can do it really quick. Your desk is still here and everything.”
“I’m not coming in to order staples.”
“Why? It’ll take you like five minutes. What else do you have going on?”
“Where do you think I am?”
“How would I know? I haven’t seen you since you had your temper tantrum.”
“I’m not coming into work and I’m not ordering your staples,” I said. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“But, Fi—”
I ended the call. I was not going to deal with her bullshit. Or her incompetence. She wasn’t my problem anymore.
Evan was watching me from the other side of the shop, that deep furrow in his brow. It was positively stupid how sexy he was when he did that. And he made that face all the time.
All.
The.
Time.
For a second, I thought he might ask me if I was okay. A little piece of my