Miss Mechanic

by Emma Hart

  I paused, waited for it to pass, then rapped my knuckles against the door.

  Silence.

  Her car was here, so she had to be home.

  I knocked again.

  “I’m coming!” came a shout from behind me.

  I turned and saw her running down a stone path through the yard. She was wearing yoga pants, and her crazy air circled her head like a freaking mane as she came barreling toward me.

  “Crap! Sorry. Shit!” She almost tripped over her own feet right in front of me, but I was quicker than her fall, and I managed to grab hold of her upper arm and steady her.

  “Whoa, speedy. Where did you just come from?”

  She looked up at me with slightly glazed eyes and grinned giddily. “My parents’. It’s right over there.” She pointed to the bigger house behind some trees.

  “Are you…are you drunk?” My lips twitched.

  She pouted and frowned. “Noooo. I had a little wine, but I’m not drunk. Not really drunk.”

  “You look a little drunk.”

  She pressed a finger to her lips and shushed me. Then, as if she’d forgotten why I was here, she looked at the pizza boxes and her eyes widened. “Oh, pizza! Let’s go inside. I have my keys here…” She slipped her hand inside her bra and pulled a small brass key. “Ta-da!”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You put it in your bra?”

  “Yeah.” She looked at me as though it was totally normal. “Where else would I put it?”

  “In your pocket?” I patted mine for good measure, and my keys jingled.

  “I did put it in my pocket.” She touched the side of her boob. “You can keep phones, keys, cash… Literally anything in your bra.”

  “Can we discuss this inside? As thrilling as it is, the pizza is getting cold.”

  She gasped. “Shit. Okay. Yes. Hold on.” She bent right forward and put the key in the door.

  I mean, she tried to put the key in the door. She aimed and…missed.

  “Oops.” She giggled. “Hang on.” She tried another two times and missed both times.

  “I got it. Here, hold—never mind.” I readjusted the pizza boxes and took the key from her. I got it in first try and unlocked the door. “Go on, tipsy. Inside.”

  “I’m not drunk!” And she tripped over the doorframe.

  “No, you look perfectly sober.”

  She giggled behind her hands and sat on the sofa. Sighing heavily, she pulled her feet up onto the cushion and crossed her legs. Then, she peered over at me, up through her dark eyelashes, grinned, and patted the sofa next to her.

  Yep.

  She was drunk.

  She could barely look me in the eye all afternoon.

  I took the key out of the door and dropped it in the bowl next to the door before shutting it. “I’m torn between staying and making sure you don’t throw up and leaving this pizza with you and trying again tomorrow.”

  She clapped her hands against her cheeks. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I ruined the date.”

  “It wasn’t really a date. Just…dinner.”

  “That’s a date.”

  “All right, fine, it was a date.” I put the boxes on the coffee table and sat down next to her. “And you’re drunk.”

  Sighing again, she rolled her eyes. “I’m not drunk. I’m just…happy.”

  “Happy.”

  “Yes, happy.” She nodded her head a bit too vigorously. “See, I got home, then I realized what we did today and that we were going to have dinner together and then I panicked and raided my mom’s wine stash, because can you believe there’s none in my house?”

  She looked at me so earnestly that I couldn’t help but smile at her. Jesus, drunk Jamie was adorable…

  “Shocking,” I said.

  She nodded in agreement. “Terrible. Anyway. I went to get a glass of wine because I was kinda nervous and next thing I know…the bottle is empty. Gone. Poof.” She held out her hands. “I don’t know what happened to it.”

  “I’m gonna say you drank it, darlin’.”

  She opened her mouth and then, “Yeah, yeah I did. Oops. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry.” My lips twitched. “I kinda like you when you’re drunk. Your cheeks go all pink and you get real cute.”

  “Great. Not long ago you were screwing me against a toolbox, and now you think I’m cute.” She gave a suffering sigh and opened a pizza box. “Way to drop me down the totem pole.”

  I laughed and opened the second box. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re real cute anyway.”

  She glanced at me and giggled again.

  Shit, that was the best giggle I’d ever heard, and I’d spent years babysitting Charley.

  Nothing was cuter than a baby giggle. Except Jamie’s tiny, drunken ones.

  What the hell was I thinking? Her giggles were cute?

  If Roxy had jinxed me by telling me I liked her, I was going to kill her. Slowly, painfully, and torturously.

  “Okay, but really, I am sorry.” She bit her lip and picked at some cheese. “I was nervous.”

  “Of what?” I said around a mouthful of pizza. “I’m not exactly a stranger. In fact, we’re more than familiar with each other at this point.”

  She blushed. “I know, but we barely spoke to each other after. I knew it would be awkward. I only wanted some Dutch courage but instead I got…”

  “Hammered. You got hammered.”

  “I got nailed earlier, so eh.”

  I tried not to laugh. Fuck, I tried, but I couldn’t help it. She said it so flippantly that I knew for sure she was way more drunk than she was letting on.

  That was not the Jamie I knew.

  Then again, today had shown me a whole other side of the woman I thought I knew. And hell, she was sexy as fuck.

  Adorable. Cute. Sexy.

  Fuck. My sister was right.

  I liked her.

  I liked her a whole damn lot.

  Motherfucker.

  Jamie shoved some pizza in her mouth and reached over for the remote control. I only just managed to save the box from sliding onto the floor off her lap, laughing through my own mouthful of food.

  When she worked, she was scarily coordinated.

  When she was drunk, she was a hot mess.

  I didn’t know which one I liked more. The put-together, controlled woman who let the mask slip every now and then, or the one who just didn’t care.

  I didn’t want to pick.

  “Whoops.” She giggled and put the box on the table. It was probably for the best. “Now,” she said, pizza in one hand and remote in the other. “Do you want to watch Friends, Friends, or Friends?”

  I hesitated. “God, darlin’, I don’t know. I can’t pick between all those choices.”

  “Oh dear, I guess I’ll pick. Friends it is!” She hit the button and squinted. “The One Where Ross Finds Out. Ooooh, yes! This is my favorite!”

  I studied her for a moment. Even when she dropped the remote on the floor and nestled back with her pizza. I decided not to reveal to her my knowledge of Friends yet.

  Hey. I had a sister. I’d lost too many bets and been forced to watch this as a teenager.

  Shit, I’d lost one just last month, and that’d been an entire series bet.

  I picked up a slice of my pizza and leaned back, watching the TV. I couldn’t help the way my eyes flicked to Jamie every few minutes. Her hair was a frizzy, crazy mess, like she’d stepped right out of the shower and just left it to poof out.

  I half expected her to pull out some neon leg warmers and announce she was headed to an Eighties birthday party or something.

  She sat in silence, nibbling her way through the pizza at a steady pace. I was going to call bullshit on her claim that she’d only had one bottle of wine.

  And if it were true, she’d had something else to drink.

  Still, I stayed quiet. I’d tease her about this tomorrow when she showed up to work—if she wasn’t too fucking hungover to do so.

  When she
snorted and almost choked on her mouthful of pizza, I had to bite back my own laugh.

  Oh yeah.

  I was going to tease the fuck out of her tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Three – Jamie

  There was a marching band inside my head. That marching band was made up of toddlers with pans and wooden spoons, and they’d all had their favorite toy taken away, so as well, as creating a new genre of music, they were screaming like they were a new metal band.

  Not to mention that my head itself weighed the equivalent of a baby elephant.

  Jesus. What the hell had I done last night?

  I hadn’t drunk with Dex, that much I did know. Had I drunk so much at my parents’ that it’d taken a while to kick in?

  I rolled out of bed and walked into the front room, holding onto my head.

  Wait.

  Where the hell were my yoga pants? And why wasn’t I wearing my bra?

  Was I responsible for that, or…

  God, no. Had I had sex with Dex again? Fuck, why had I thought it was a good idea to drink before he came for dinner?

  The empty pizza boxes weren’t in the front room, and when I stumbled blearily into the kitchen, I found them flattened on the side. A glance into the trashcan showed a couple of leftover pieces and some crust.

  Good. So… I’d been sober enough to eat, right?

  I scratched my forehead and started the coffee machine before wandering back into my room. There was a piece of paper on the floor, and I bent down to pick it up.

  Then sat down.

  Holy spinning bedroom.

  I blinked, and when the dizzy sensation had passed, I opened the paper, instantly recognizing Dex’s messy handwriting.

  Jamie,

  First: Nothing happened. You threw up, so I put you to bed, where you insisted I remove your clothes and change your bra. Your panties stayed on.

  That part was underlined three times.

  I appreciated the emphasis.

  Second: Thank you for the random compliment on my cock when your head was in the toilet bowl. I appreciated knowing you vomited while thinking of my dick.

  Oh, sweet fucking hell…

  Third: You owe me a date. In public. Without you being drunk.

  Wait. Who said last night was a date?

  I paused as the memory flooded back.

  I did.

  I’d apologized for ruining our date, and he’d gone with it.

  Shit…

  Four: You’re probably already late when you read this, so you don’t have to come to work until lunchtime…where my sister will likely accost you into lunch. And you deserve that, you little lush.

  Dex

  Oh no, no, no…

  This was why I didn’t like dating. I ultimately made a fool of myself. Except this time, the guy I’d tried to have a date with was first my boss, second the guy who’d screwed me against a toolbox, and third…

  Well, I wasn’t even sure I liked him.

  But the fact he looked after me while I vomited and put me to—

  Motherfucker. He was going to be on my ass about this for as long as I lived. There was no way he’d let me live this down. What had I done, except for set myself up for almost constant ridicule?

  Oh god.

  This was going to be a disaster.

  ***

  I took Dex at his word and didn’t show up until lunchtime. And by took him at his word, I mean I downed some pills, about three pints of water, and went back to bed.

  After a shower and some more ibuprofen, I resembled something human. At least, I was more human than I had been when I’d woken up and read Dex’s letter.

  I paid the cab driver and got out. Driving was not on the agenda today. Even if it meant I had to ask Dex to drive me home.

  Hell—the guy had given me an orgasm, so I’m sure a ride would be no problem.

  I walked slowly toward the open garage doors and adjusted my sunglasses. At least it was bright and sunny today so they didn’t look completely out of place.

  Dex was leaning against the back of the Dodge, arms folded, ankles crossed, with the biggest, shit-eating grin on his face. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

  I groaned, shielding my face from him. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Mention how you wouldn’t let me leave unless I took off your yoga pants, or how you threw your bra at your light and it hung there like a Christmas decoration?”

  “Stop,” I moaned, walking in the direction of the coffee machine.

  “Or how you spent ten minutes throwing up after Ross wrote a Con list about Rachel?”

  Friends? We watched Friends?

  Jesus…

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I pressed the coffee machine button.

  “Which, by the way, we never discussed this,” he said, following me. “But Ross is absolutely the worst character on that show. He and Rachel never should have been together.”

  I gasped, clutching my chest and dropping my jaw. I spun around to face him. “How dare you swear at me!”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? You can’t even be his advocate. He was a selfish, obsessive, needy asshole who constantly stood in her way.”

  “He was her lobster!”

  “Lobsters don’t even mate for life.” Dex rolled his eyes. “They’re dirty little cheaters. Like Ross, since they weren’t on a break.”

  I paused. “I agree with you there. And really, they don’t mate for life?”

  He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe. “Nope. They’re monogamous, but they change partners. If Pheobe wanted to be accurate, she should have called them penguins.”

  I put my coffee mug under the machine and hit the button. “How…how the hell do you know so much about Friends?”

  “I have a sister. I make stupid bets. I’ve watched them a lot.”

  “Did we have this conversation last night?”

  “No, darlin’, we didn’t. It was mostly you telling me how nervous you were to have dinner with me which lead to you getting drunk. There was a little in there about us having sex, too.”

  I leaned forward and slumped against the countertop, burying my face in my arms. “Oh no, no, noooo.”

  “I admit, my favorite part of the night was when you stopped vomiting enough to compliment my sex skills and thank me for the best orgasm of your life.”

  I turned my head to the side and craned to meet his eyes. “I can’t decide if this is all true, or if you’re just saying it to wind me up.”

  Dex held up his hands, then drew an invisible cross over his heart. “Cross my heart. It’s all true.”

  “What are you crossing your heart for?” Roxy appeared behind him and looked between us.

  My coffee stopped pouring, so I stood up.

  Dex nodded toward me. “I’m promising her I’m not making up the drunk mess she was last night.”

  “Well, you do drive people to drink,” Roxy replied. She pushed past him and opened the fridge. She grabbed the cream and took over making my coffee. “And, Jamie, if he’s crossing his heart, he’s telling the truth.”

  I shot Dex a skeptical side-eye. “Really?”

  “Yep,” Roxy answered for him. “Charley made him start doing it when she was four because he kept promising ice-cream and never following through. It’s habit. If he crosses his heart, he’s being completely truthful.”

  Interesting.

  “Interesting,” I said. “Thank you.” I took my coffee from her and sipped.

  “It’s not habit,” Dex argued, still unmoving from his place in the doorway. “I only say when I want someone to believe me.”

  “Did you steal my diary and leave it in Gary Forsyth’s locker in high school?” Roxy shot back.

  “No.”

  She raised her eyebrows then turned to me. “See? Liar.”

  “Why are you in my garage? You’re all up in my business lately. Go away.”

  Roxy grinned ear-to-ear. “I told you, I’m taking my f
riend Jamie to lunch. You just happen to be here.”

  Dex glared at her.

  “And I’m all up in your business because you’re a stubborn-ass dick,” she continued, examining her nails.

  He carried on glaring. “I don’t think she’s hungry. She just got here.”

  I looked between them. “No, no, I’m hungry.” I couldn’t be further from being hungry, but still…

  I took one last swig from my mug before tipping the rest down the sink and looking at Roxy. “Let’s go.”

  ***

  “What’s good here?” Roxy browsed the menu of my favorite taco place.

  “Literally everything,” I replied. And now, after the drive, I was hungry.

  And yes, I was eating tacos again. So shoot me. There was no such thing as too many tacos, all right?

  Plus, it wasn’t like I’d really had dinner last night, was it?

  “All righty then.” She glanced across it one more time, just as our server came up.

  We both placed our orders, and I gratefully took the ice water she’d left at our table.

  Roxy slid the big-ass jug of water over to the back of the booth and tore the top off the paper packaging for the straw. “So. I’m sure you’re fully aware of my ulterior motive for this lunch date. Not that I don’t love spending time with the person who can bring my asshole of a brother to his knees, but in the name of honesty and all that shit.”

  I snorted so hard I sucked water into my nose. I pinched my nostrils together and waited until the freeze had passed. “Yep. I’m pretty sure I do know, and I’m pretty sure you planned this before I got apparently blind drunk last night.”

  “I’d get blind drunk if I had to go on a date with him even if he wasn’t my brother.” She stirred the ice cubes with her straw, sipped, and edged the glass aside. Then grinned. “He told me that you two, you know, did it.”

  I was going to kill him.

  “Um…” My cheeks flamed. “It was an accident.”

  “Yeah, sure. I mean, you see people tripping and shoving their dicks into random vaginas all the time.”