#Rev (GearShark #2)

“He’s not that bad.”

I leveled my eyes on his. “I still have the dents in my fender from when he tried to run me off the road.”

Arrow grinned.

“Anyway…” I began and stepped back from the sparkplug. “You’re doing better with the driving. Just remember what I said.”

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

“I got places to be.” T’s classes were letting out soon.

“I can help you with those dents if you want.” He offered.

I glanced up, and he looked away shyly. Poor kid probably didn’t have any friends. His brother likely scared them all away.

“Maybe another time,” I said.

I was almost to the door when he spoke again. “So what’s up with you and your manager?”

I stopped and turned. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t seen him around much lately.”

“He’s been busy.”

“So he’s still around?”

I hesitated. “Yeah…”

“What about that pro driver? The girl?”

“Joey went back home.”

He was full of questions suddenly.

“Cool.” He shifted. Awkwardness was like his new best friend.

“I’ll catch you later,” I said, lifting a hand and waving.

“See ya,” Arrow called back.

That was weird, right?

In the car, the first thing I did was check my cell. There was text from T.

Class over. Stopping by the frat b4 I find you.

Want me to meet you there? I texted back.

No. I’ll come to you.

I knew he’d say that. Everything okay?

No.

My fingers spasmed around the black case on my phone. What the hell does that mean?

I turned the key and fired up the engine while I waited, impatient for a reply.

I miss you.

It was a good thing I was alone, because the goofy grin on my face when I read that would have been embarrassing.

Me, too.

I’ll hurry.

I dropped the phone in my lap and sped home. I even ran a couple lights just for fun.

Just as I turned onto my street, the sky opened up and rain literally dumped from the clouds. “Seriously?” I yelled upward.

A crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder replied.

“Assholes,” I muttered.

No one was home when I pulled in the driveway. Romeo and B left to do some NFL stuff this morning and wouldn’t be back until the day after tomorrow. Rim was probably at the shelter, and Ivy could’ve been anywhere. Probably at the boutique or shopping for her fashion channel.

Since Romeo wasn’t home, I took advantage and opened up the garage and drove in. He always parked here, but since him and his Hellcat would be gone tonight, I could do the work on my car inside, rain be damned.

The sound of the heavy drops splattering against the driveway (the door was still open) was kind of nice. After shedding my jacket, I got to work unloading the car parts and pulling out tools.

As I worked, my mind drifted to the place it always seemed to go lately.

Trent.





Trent

The sky seemed to open up out of nowhere. One second, everything was calm (but gray), and the next, heavy sheets of rain pounded my windshield.

I didn’t mind the rain so much, though. It had a sort of cleansing effect on things. Washing away the worst to give way to a clean slate.

Today had been long. People stared, people asked me about my bruises, and rumors flew. I didn’t do anything to dissuade any of the talk. Why should I?

Let the fuckers who worked me over get a nice heap of oh fuck. Let them hear it all, see it all, and get nervous. I saw one of the four on campus. The second he saw me, he turned and hiked the other direction.

The second classes were over, I went to the frat, did some obligatory shit, and then swung by a drive-thru on the way home. It wasn’t dark yet when I pulled into the driveway, though everything outside was shrouded in shadows and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

The garage door was open, and the Fastback was parked inside. The hood was propped up, and I smiled because I knew Drew was there leaning over the engine.

Almost as if he heard my thought, the top of his blond head poked up and stared out through the heavy rain to my car.

I cut the engine and pulled my black baseball hat a little lower to shield my face. Rain pelted me the instant I lurched out of the dry interior of my car, and water splashed up my ankles as I ran into the garage. Once there, I stopped and shook myself like a dog fresh out of the bath.

“What took you so long?” Drew griped, coming around the car. His blue eyes slid up my body and latched onto my face.

From beneath the rim of my hat, I watched him, taking in his familiar, welcome form. “Brought you some fries.” I held up a white paper sack. The coffee I’d gotten myself was still in the Mustang, long forgotten. Who needed caffeine when I had a dimple-wielding car addict in front of me?

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