Benevolence [H.S.]

Chapter Fifteen

Never did I ever consider that I'd be standing naked in the office of a motorcycle shop.

Harry's office. Harry's.

Yet here I was, shrugging into an oversized pair of coveralls, a flimsy curtain the only barrier between my tits and his eyes.

( And *zero* barrier between nipples and scratchy denim, might I add)

I ball up my soggy clothes and lay them on the radiator naively hiding my bra and panties at the bottom. As if their being seen somehow mattered. As if we don't all know I'm butt-ass naked under this 3-thread count monstrosity.

The heater sputters on with a tap-tap-click, and somewhere down the hall bits of Harry and Liam's conversation float through, muted by rain and thick concrete.

— Harry —

"I mean honestly, why not purple polka dots! The rate he's going. Real fucking subtle."

Liam was on about some clients shitty custom paint job, someone who was new in town and it showed. New to Eureka, yes, but it was the threat of visibility to the business itself that had Liam wound tight.

"That kid shows up here with that monstrosity again and I'll knock his ass back to Prague. Absolute shite."

I don't think Liam even knows where Prague is, but I don't bother interjecting. Can't untangle my brain from the way this morning has already played out. Liam's complaints about some novice on a sparkly bike are the least of my concerns.

She was soaked to the bone when we showed up, clearly she'd been here waiting for something. She hadn't just gone on a little jaunt around the block in a storm and wound up here for the sheer joy of my company. It was likely some headstrong crusade that led her to our doorstep, which of course makes me nervous. I can't trust her not to make a scene, especially if she's already irritated and uncomfortable. Who wouldn't be? A damn monsoon out there and naught but a t-shirt. Though I can't say I didn't enjoy the sight...just a little.

Liam hadn't started asking questions yet, but there was no avoiding it now. I'd conveniently avoided telling him exactly how Benny and I know each other, but showing up like this there's only so much I can say and remain believable.

I thought I'd have time, figured she'd be a pain in the ass, of course, but one I could handle at least.

But no, of course not. Fucking naïve and wishful thinking on my part.

I glance at the clock on the wall, she'll be back any minute. Surely dressed by now. Or maybe she was still peeling off wet layers in my office...piece by piece...

"You alright mate?"

Liam's tenor breaks through whatever sordid fantasy I was about to conjure.

"Think it's probably well stirred, yeah?"

I cough and drop the spoon I'd been spinning noticeably faster.
Real subtle, Harry. Doin' great here.

"Turn that on will you?" I jerk my chin toward the radio, changing the subject.

It fizzles to life with the first words of Dr. King's speech, and I lean back on the counter to take a breath and think through whatever moments I have left before Liam starts asking questions.

But then she's there, walking barefoot through the door.

— Benny —

Despite my trail of wet footprints, I manage to hold my head high as I make my way down the hall and straight into the break room.

Both of them look up as I shuffle in, and to my surprise someone has turned the radio station to coverage of this morning's protest.

"Everything fit okay, then?" Harry eyes the cuffs I'd rolled up forty times to keep from tripping, and I know that mischievous smirk in his eyes is a jab.

"Just swell, thanks."  I'm already too off-balance to come back with something good. To make things even better, he eyes me up and down with a gaze so slow I swear he's dragging the threads of this jumper right along with it.

Neither of them say a word, just sipping their coffee, no doubt waiting for me to explain why I've washed up (quite literally) on their doorstep.

"I uh, didn't know you were interested in the movement." I nod to the radio, "I'm glad you put it on, was worried I'd miss the best bits." I swallow the tinny flavor of anxiety and will my hands not to fidget with anything.

Harry just nods with a low hum, giving nothing away.
Stubborn bastard.

A harsh scrape echoes through the room as Liam pulls out a chair from the dinette, offering me a seat. I take the full mug he plunks in front of me with a smile, but from the way he's avoiding actually looking at me, I can tell that the tension in the room is palpable for him, too.

Fuck it. Now or never, then.

"So...Liam," I clear my throat, beginning as if I've not just met him two days ago, "I know it's been kind of rough trying to keep up with everything around here. I have a proposition for you."