Getaway Car [HS]

Chapter Twelve

It's been four days since she last saw or spoke to Harry.

After he left her apartment, she was standing frozen against the counter with her eyes trained on the door that slammed shut behind him for a good minute or so. It took her realizing she was still half-naked to snap out of it, pushing off of the kitchen island and gathering her discarded clothes. For the rest of the night, she retreated behind the locked door of her bedroom. Going through the motions of showering, changing, and laying down in bed did nothing to tear her mind away from what happened. The bad idea she keeps repeating. Him.

She'd like to pretend she tried to reject his advances as she promised herself she would the first time it happened, but she didn't have the self-control. It was different once he was actually there, kissing her neck in a desperate bid to get on his knees for her. In truth, she never thought about rejecting him at the moment, and she knows deep down that she won't the next time either.

If there's a next time, she reminds herself.

"Hey!"

Alanis calling to get her attention from across the auto shop brings her head snapping up from where she's leaning over the open hood of a busted-up Jeep.

She formally quit the day after her first job with Harry but agreed to come in today as a favor to her friend. It's her fault they're understaffed on short notice. The way she saw it when she got the call, she didn't give them two weeks' notice and Alanis said she needed her for the day before her replacement starts tomorrow morning, so her hands were tied. They could consider it a debt paid. An apology for how things went down after she first met and became entangled with Leo and his gang.

Plus, it's more money in the bank for her. Just because she already paid her rent and narrowly evaded eviction doesn't mean she can't save up more. She refuses to touch the money she stole from Harry on principle. If, or when, he figures out what happened, being able to give it back to him could spare her life.

"What's up?" she asks.

A bandana keeps the sleek sheet of dark hair from falling into her face while she works. The carefully tied fabric allows her focus to bounce back and forth between the woman standing in the doorway to the office and the interior of the car she works on.

Alanis is perched against the open door with her phone in hand.

Her staggering good looks never fail to throw Harley off her train of thought whenever she looks at her. It's been years since she first saw her, yet she never gets used to it. The combination of her high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, and golden brown skin is enough to take her breath away. It's no wonder every man who passes by falls for her. They used to joke that there must've been something amiss with her pheromones considering that, one summer, they needed to make a pros and cons list about each potential date for her to choose who to go out with.

Today, her typical vintage clothing is relaxed. On busy days like this, she doesn't have the time to get dolled up. Instead of dressing in flares, a ringer tee, and one of her many thrifted vests, she is clad in a well-worn sweatshirt and baggy jeans. It's so unlike her, it adds to the pause Harley must make while taking in her beauty as well. Nobody minds the dressed-down attire. Dress codes are lax under the rule of their neglectful boss, and with her overseeing everyone whenever he is absent, no one would call her out on it.

"I have to take a call from my mom, but there's a client coming back real soon. Can you come to cover me in here for, like, five minutes? Seven tops. Cross my heart," Alanis begs with her phone waved around in her hand with the screen displaying the muted call.

Seven minutes.

Her saying the number aloud brings to mind hearing Harry saying it to her in the kitchen. It sends a shiver through her body. An aftershock from his electricity lingering beneath her skin for days on end. The reaction has her pushing herself in the direction of the office without any disagreement prepared, glad to have a client to keep her from reliving those seven minutes over and over again.