B00AAOCX2E EBOK (7 page)

I squealed when Ian tossed the chunk of ice at me. It slid right down the front of my shirt and caught in the clasp of my bra. I frantically fished around for it to the amusement of the rest of the table.

After finally getting the chunk of ice out of my shirt, I grabbed a napkin and dabbed at my cleavage. “Dammit, Ian, you got me all wet!” My hand froze the moment the words left my mouth.

There was a brief silence before everyone burst into gales of laughter, the heartiest coming from Ian. My face flamed.

Ian put his hands over his heart. “Oh, Ivy, how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words.”

Can’t believe I walked right into that one.

I wadded up my napkin and threw it at him. “You wish.”

He went for another piece of ice.

“You better be nice to me,” I told him.

“Why?”

“Because I mean the difference between you earning three hundred bucks or not,” I said with an enigmatic smile.

Ian’s hand paused over his glass. The look on his face was an equal mix of intrigue and caution. “You’ve got my attention.”

“What are you doing next Thursday at two?”

“Like I know. Why?”

I watched him as I relayed Dr. Wilkinson’s request. He squinted at me and frown lines deepened above his brows. He put his elbow on the table and rubbed his chin, a pinched look around his lips.

“And why don’t you look happy?” I asked in the same breath I’d used to finish my explanation. “This is an awesome opportunity!”

Ian frowned down at the table and his brows flickered. “I’m not sure how I feel about the live performance thing.”

I raised my hands up in question. “What are you talking about? Every performance we do is live.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Not exactly, no—”

“Not at all!”

I flinched, surprised by the agitation in his voice.

“When we’re on the radio,” Ian gestured between us, “it’s just you and me, hanging out together, talking to disembodied voices. There’s a wall between us and our callers. I like that. That’s what makes it so easy. I can relax and be myself, because I’m with you. Put us on stage and that’s gone. We’ll be expected to perform for a bunch of people gawking at us, analyzing our body language and our facial expressions, trying to figure us out. Screw that.”

I hadn’t considered that. Things were so fluid between us on the air. It seemed weird to think that would change in person. “It’ll be different, yeah, but different can be good.”

He nodded once, conceding the point. “It can also be a train wreck.”

“So you don’t want to do it?”

“No, not really.”

I slumped in my chair, seeing the money slipping through my fingers. I hated to be the materialistic one here, but three hundred dollars meant the difference between me eating Ramen three meals a day come March and eating at least one balanced meal daily. “Did you miss the part where I said it was three hundred dollars? Each?”

A small smile twitched at his mouth. “I heard you and yeah, I’m sure I could use it. I just don’t know if it’s worth it.”

“What, you aren’t up to a challenge?” I asked, giving it one last try.
When all else fails, go for the ego.

The look on his face said ‘nice try’. “Only when it’s worth my while.”

“Fine,” I said in a sulky voice. “Will you at least think about it?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

The arrival of our food put an end to our discussion as we all dug into our sandwiches. Amery paid, but I insisted on leaving the tip. I was rummaging in my bag for my wallet when I encountered the crumpled flyer Graydon had given me earlier.

Pulling it out, I waved it in the air. “Hey, everyone, I’m going to a party tomorrow night. Who wants to come with?”

Ian’s lip curled.

Ian and I said our goodbyes outside of Luna’s. Chelsea, Amery and Casey were headed back to campus for afternoon classes. I was done for the day, and Ian didn’t have class until five, so I was catching a ride with him.

“We still need to go to the mechanic?” he asked as he handed me his helmet.

“No.” I sighed and tugged it down over my head. “The car won’t be ready until tomorrow.”

“What the hell? I thought it was supposed to be ready today?”

I lifted the visor. “They left a message last night saying they still don’t have the part.”

“Yeah, right. Sounds to me like they’re trying to take advantage of you, being a helpless girl and all.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I beg your pardon?”

Ian held up his hands in defense. “
I
know you’re not helpless, but they don’t, and you do fall into their target demographic. These places thrive off making money off of clueless women. I say we go down there and find out what the hell is going on.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know…” While I was eager to get to the bottom of my car mystery, Ian wasn’t the best person to handle the job. His idea of being firm was my idea of being a dick. “It’s only one more day. It’s not a big deal.”

“How many times have you heard that before?” Ian mounted his bike and I climbed on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Okay. But please try to be nice.”

I felt rather than heard his chuckle. “I’m
always
nice.”

The ride to Gallo’s Garage took fifteen minutes. Ian parked the bike in the lot and I followed him around the side of the building, where I spotted my vehicle gathering dust outside the service station.

“What a surprise,” Ian said, seeing the same thing I had.

I nodded, barely hearing him. I was too busy checking out the blond mechanic who was working on a teal Dodge Neon – or, to be more accurate, I was too busy checking out his very shapely rear end.
Very nice.

“What are you gawking at?”

My eyes snapped forward. “Nothing. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Ian held the door to the service station open for me, then walked up to the counter and rang the bell once. When no one came, he tapped it repeatedly and called out, “Hello? Can we get some service around here?”

I wanted to sink into the checkered tile.

A bulky teen with curly dark hair and a smattering of freckles around his nose stepped out from the door behind us. “Sorry about that. I was in the can.” He flashed a sheepish grin. He moved behind the counter and placed his hands flat on the counter. “What can I help you with?”

Ian crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Are you servicing the red Golf?”

“No, I’m just the attend—”

Ian cut him off. “Then we have no business with you, but if you’d run along and get the guy who is, we’d appreciate it.”

I elbowed him in the ribs.

The kid’s smile was polite, but brittle. “Of course, sir. He’ll be right out.”

“Tone it down, will you?” I hissed as soon as the kid entered the garage. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you piss everyone off. We still need these people to finish my car.”

Ian waved away my concerns as if they were flies. “Just chill, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

I knew this was a bad idea.

I dropped my head to the raised counter and mimed banging my forehead against it. What I really wanted to do was stomp on Ian’s toe, but it wouldn’t do any good; he practically lived in his steel-toed Docs. It would hurt me more than it ever hurt him.

“All you’re going to get for your efforts is a sore head.”

I raised my head and met the amused bluish-grey eyes of a guy who had taken the kid’s place at the counter. My lips parted as I recognized Mr. Cute-Rear-End from the garage, and he was even more attractive from this angle than from the back. Fair-skinned with high cheekbones, he had disheveled sand-colored hair and a perfectly even smile. He wasn’t particularly tall nor built, something I was usually attracted to, but there was no missing the defined muscles of his arm or the six-pack hidden under his tight, white T-shirt. From the quirk of his lip and the smile in his eyes, I could already tell he had an easy going, yet sarcastic, sense of humor. And I just loved that in a man.

I straightened up. “I’m sorry?”

The guy’s eyes crinkled. “The counter. Not sure what it did to offend you, but its passivity is deceptive.” He knocked on the surface with his knuckles. “Granite will kick your ass every time.”

I giggled. Oh yeah; total smart-ass and total hottie.

“So, what can I do you for?” he asked, getting back to business.

Ian scowled at me before turning to the mechanic. “You’re working on the Golf?”

“I am.” The guy winked at me.

“Well, then, maybe you can explain why a car that was supposed to be ready last week is still waiting on parts?”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, unfazed by Ian’s harsh tone. “But I’ve only been here a few days.”

“Oh, great, that inspires a lot of confidence,” Ian snarled.

The mechanic paused and his fair eyebrows slanted. “Are you the owner of the car?”

I waved my hand. “I am.”

The mechanic eyed Ian for a moment before turning my way. “The guy who was working on your car no longer works here. He ordered the wrong compressor, twice, and that’s not the first mistake he made. I’m taking care of everything, though. I ordered the correct part yesterday, and it’s being shipped Fed-Ex as we speak, guaranteed to be here by two.”

“What is all this going to cost me?” I asked, dreading his answer, but figuring that if Ian saw how much money I was about to be out, he’d be more willing to do the panel.

The mechanic’s hands flew over the keyboard on the computer terminal beside the front desk. “With parts, labor and tax, it looks like $387.50” My heart sank. “But Gallo put a note in here for a discount due to the delay, so your final cost should be $318.25.”

Ian was
so
doing this panel.

“She’s not being charged extra for the other guy’s fuck up, is she?”

The mechanic blinked twice, but spoke to me. “You’re only being charged for the part, which we had to order from a dealership in Phoenix.”

“So the car will be ready tomorrow, for sure?” Ian asked before I could respond.

“Guaranteed. I’m truly sorry for the delay and—”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not your fault. You can’t be blamed for someone else’s mistake.”

“Well, I appreciate your understanding. I do plan to add a premium oil change at no cost.”

“Oh, that’s very generous of you,” I gushed, unable to believe I was getting swoony over an oil change.

“Yeah,
very
generous,” Ian said with a not-so-subtle hint of sarcasm.

“It’s the least we can do. Come back tomorrow. I’ll have it ready by ten a.m.”

“Thank you so much…?” I trailed off, hoping to get his name.

“Jayden.”

I thrust my hand over the counter. “I’m Ivy. Ivy Rossini.”

Jayden slipped his hand into mine, where it lingered. “Well, Ivy Rossini, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I sure hope so.”

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Ian’s head turning between us. “The car better be ready.” He turned his back on Jayden and edged himself between me and the counter, forcing me to let go of Jayden’s hand. Impatience, annoyance, and an emotion I couldn’t quite define blazed in his green eyes. “Can we go?” He glowered down at me for a second before stepping back and stalking toward the door.

“Sorry about him,” I said to Jayden as I backed away.

“It’s understandable. Your boyfriend just wants to make sure you’re not getting taken advantage of. I’d do the same.”

“Ian? He’s not my boyfriend,” I said in a rush, blushing when I realized how obvious that sounded.

“Good to know.” Jayden winked. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Absolutely.” I winced when I backed into a display of tires. The top tire teetered and I spun around to steady it. “Crap.” I turned back with a mortified smile. “Sorry!”

There was no mistaking the laughter in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Ivy Rossini.”

“Thanks. Bye!” I waved like an idiot.

He finger-waved back.

I fled the service office and my maniacal smile dropped. I cursed myself for being such a dork. Why-why-
why
did I have to do at least one spaztastic thing every time I met someone to whom I was attracted?

Knowing as much as I did about relationships, you’d think I’d be a little smoother, but for reasons I couldn’t explain, I always turned into a quivering dork, guaranteed to do something stupid.

“What the hell was that about in there?” Ian demanded when I caught up to him.

I slowed my steps, noting his angry frown. “What was what?”

“I came down here to do you a favor, and you went Pollyanna on me. ‘Oh, it’s not your fault’,” he mocked in a high falsetto. “‘Oh, that’s so generous of you’.” He laughed a girlish laugh, waving his hand. His grin dropped. “Christ, I thought I was going to lose my lunch.”

“But you heard him; it wasn’t his fault.”

“Right. I’m not stupid.” He mounted the bike and held out his helmet. “You were flirting with him – why, I don’t know. You can’t honestly tell me you found that grease monkey attractive.”

“Why not? He was hot and totally nice, even with you acting like a belligerent and insulting ass.”

“Hot? Now I am going to lose my lunch.” Ian leaned over the bike and pretended to heave.

After putting his helmet on my head, I climbed on behind him and slapped his back. “Grow up.”

He stood erect and shook his head. “You know, you never cease to amaze me with your incredibly bad taste. Of all the losers you’ve liked, he has got to be the worst.”

“I don’t like losers,” I argued, getting annoyed. “And I didn’t say I liked him, I just said he was hot.”

“Same difference.”

I sighed in exasperation. “Why do you care, anyway?”

“I don’t. If you want to drool all over a loser, that’s your prerogative.”

“Yes, it is,” I shot back.

“Regardless, next time you want me to do you a favor, do
me
a favor and ask someone else.”

I wanted to point out that I hadn’t asked for his help, but why bother? He was in one of his moods, and the best thing to do when he was like this was to just leave him alone and give him time to get over himself.

I used to get hurt when he shut down on me, but I didn’t let his mood swings bother me anymore. Besides, I had more pleasant things to worry about. Like what I was going to wear for tomorrow’s visit to the garage.