The One She Needed

SEVEN

ALEX

Fixing cars is a two-handed job. Doing it with one? Damn near impossible.

My busted hand throbbed as I sat at the bus stop, my fingers flexing against the bandages. Two weeks off—that was Derek's version of being generous. No temp hire, no backup. Just me, sidelined and restless, stuck counting down the days until I could get back to work properly.

Johnny had tried cheering me up, rambling about the time he got second-degree burns on his arm, calling it a rite of passage. I appreciated the distraction, but the pain still pulsed beneath my skin like a dull heartbeat.

At least Derek had some decency. He lightened my workload, which meant I could leave before midnight instead of crawling home half-dead. I filled the extra time with online classes, trying to be productive.

Didn't stop me from thinking about her.

Raquel.

It pissed me off how much space she took up in my head. How every glimpse of her with Derek sent a sharp pang through my chest. I wasn't the possessive type—I couldn't be, not when she wasn't mine. But knowing what he was like? Knowing he saw her as just another conquest to brag about?

It burned.

I'd thought about telling her. Every time she walked past me, every time she smiled at him. I could rip the curtain back, show her the truth.

But then what?

Would she even believe me? Or worse—would she hate me for it?

A sigh left me as I slouched forward, staring at the pavement, my mind tangled in all the things I couldn't say.

Then, a flash of red heels entered my line of sight.

My gaze lifted, and there she was, standing before me, smiling like I was the best thing she'd seen all day.

"Hey," she said, her voice threading through me, settling under my skin in a way I wasn't prepared for. "What are you doing here?"

I straightened. "Pretty obvious, don't you think? Waiting for the bus."

She pursed her lips, like she was holding back a thought, and I wondered what was going on in that sharp mind of hers.

"What happened to your motorcycle?"

A small, stupid part of me warmed at the fact that she remembered I even had one. I could have used the second-hand vehicle Mr. Hughes allowed me to purchase off his hands, however, I opted to save money on gas and take the bus. Lifting my injured hand, I let the evidence speak for itself.

Her eyes widened. "What the hell happened?"

That concern—it did something to me. Twisted inside my chest, made my lips quirk up in a small smile.

"Long story short, hood of a car slammed down on my hand while I was working."

She winced. "I hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."

I shrugged. "Won't. Besides, boss man just left, so I get to knock off early today."

That wiped the smile off her face. Her jaw tightened, her gaze flicking toward the building as if she could still see Derek inside.

Then she looked back at me. "I can drop you off somewhere."

That was dangerous.

Being in a confined space with her? A terrible idea. People at work would talk, speculate. Hell, I would talk if I saw her with some random guy in her car.

I wanted her. That wasn't the issue. The issue was—people couldn't know I wanted her.

"Thanks, but I'll take the bus," I said, knowing I'd regret it later. If I spent any more time alone with her, I wasn't sure I could keep pretending to be the gentleman my mother raised me to be.

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. "You'd rather take the bus than a ride from me?"

A smirk curled her lips as she moved to sit beside me. When her knee brushed mine, my pulse jumped.

Oh, no. Please don't make this harder for me.

"It's not like that," I muttered. "If people see us getting into the same car, they'll start assuming things."

She hummed, nodding as if she understood. But then she turned toward me, her scent—a soft, floral tease—drifting between us, making my fingers twitch.

"I'm a big girl, Alex. I can handle a few rumors," she said smoothly. "Though, I have to say, I'm surprised by you."

My brows furrowed. "Surprised how?"

"You strike me as the type who takes risks daily," she mused, her gaze locking onto mine, sharp and unyielding. "Yet you're scared of a little gossip."

My jaw clenched.

This is what I get for having a big mouth.

"I am a risk taker, Raquel." The words came out firm, edged with the need to prove something—to her, to myself.

She smiled, slow and knowing. Then, standing up, she gazed down at me, the challenge gleaming in her eyes.

"Then get your ass in my car."

Raquel didn't wait for a response. She turned and walked toward her car, her heels clicking against the pavement with quiet confidence.

I followed, my eyes glued to the back of her head, drawn in by the effortless way she carried herself—like she already knew I'd cave.

Sliding into the seat, I shut the door, keeping my mouth shut as the driver started the engine.

Five minutes passed.

Five long, torturous minutes.

The car smelled like her—soft florals and something subtly sweet. The space between us was innocent enough, but I felt too aware of her, of every shift of her body against the leather seats, of the way her lips parted slightly as she focused on the road.

Meanwhile, I was sweating like an idiot.

I turned my head, staring at the side of her face, hoping to settle the unease curling inside my chest. She, of course, looked perfectly at ease.

"Penny for your thoughts," she murmured, still not looking at me.

I exhaled a small laugh. "Have you always been this demanding?"

She chuckled, amused.

"Alex, I spent years fighting to make my fashion line what it is today. If you want something, you can't afford to beat around the bush. Someone else will just take it."

"Nice to see you treat me like a conquest," I teased, watching as her eyes widened slightly at the words.

Then she smirked. "Well, you're worth the effort to get... to know."

She turned her head just then, smiling at me, and in that instant—just like that—I fell.

Before I could stop myself, the words slipped out.

"Let's grab some dinner. I'm starving."