Tight Page 2

  “Nothing. You’re paranoid.”

  I turned and headed back to the engine, but the truth was, I did want to talk to someone on neutral territory. I wasn’t going to talk about this shit with my friends, the ones who would bust my balls for not going after her, who would give me a hard time even though they didn’t know the whole story or the background. They were also the kind of assholes who would give me shit for being celibate.

  I looked over at Jacks, who was drying his hands.

  I pulled the matchstick out of my mouth and tucked it in the small breast pocket of my coveralls. I contemplated telling Jacks any of this, but I needed to unload on someone, and he was the safest option given the fact we weren’t really friends but worked together daily.

  “Actually, let me ask you something,” I said and waited for him to turn around to face me. He lifted a brow as he tossed the rag onto the counter.

  Jacks crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the sink. “Shoot.”

  It took me a moment to grow the balls to say the words, because this whole time I’d kept how I felt for Kennedy a secret.

  “I have this ...friend. He wants this girl. Bad. But being with her might cause issues within their families because, well...” I ran my hand over my jaw, the scruff covering my skin slightly abrading my palm. “People might see them being together as wrong.”

  Jacks knitted his brows. “Wrong? What do you mean?”

  I shrugged and walked over to the endgame. A second later Jacks lowered the music so it wasn’t so ear-splitting. I looked over my shoulder at him and saw I had his full attention.

  Of course, I did. This was probably the juiciest gossip a grease monkey like him had heard in a long fucking time.

  “Don’t leave me hanging. How is it wrong to be with her? She his sister or some shit?” He tipped his head back and barked out a laugh.

  When I turned and faced him fully, not answering, my expression staying stoic, he sobered.

  “Fuck, dude, she his sister?” He looked shocked and disgusted all at the same time.

  “Hell no, but she is family ... kind of.”

  “How are you kind of family?” He lifted a brow. “Man, this is confusing as hell.” Jacks scratched his head as if he was trying to figure out some hard fucking math equation.

  “I’ll put it this way. She’s part of his family but they aren’t related.” I exhaled, suddenly feeling pretty fucking exhausted talking about this. I stared at Jacks and waited for him to say something, anything. I didn’t know why I needed validation from him, but I wanted to hear him say that it wasn’t a big deal. “So, what would you do if you were in his shoes? Go after her despite what people would most likely say, or stay back because of who she is and the shit you both would get?”

  It took him a solid minute before he answered, but he still looked grossed out that I’d even mentioned anything.

  “Man, to be honest, it kind of gives me the creeps. Like, I get they aren’t related, but shit, dude, she’s still family, you know? Blood or not, I wouldn’t fucking touch that shit with a ten-foot pole.” He shrugged. “I also wouldn’t want to open that can of worms. Can you image how family gatherings would go?” He snorted. “Hey Mom and Dad, you know Susie here, right? Well I’m fucking her now.” He barked out another laugh.

  I narrowed my eyes, feeling pissed at Jacks even though it wasn’t his fault. He’d given me his honest opinion, one I’d asked for, one that would probably be the same for nearly everyone. I’d even expected that to be his answer, but I’d been hoping that he’d tell me it wasn’t a big deal, that he’d go for it in a heartbeat because he cared about her and fuck what anyone said. “Dude, shut the fuck up and don’t go there.”

  He lifted his hands in surrender.

  I got back to work on the engine, and a few moments passed before Jacks spoke again.

  “So, like, this friend of yours ... he you, man?”

  I stopped working and glanced over at him. “Nah. Friend of mine, like I said.”

  Jacks didn’t look like he believed me, but he nodded.

  What he said, and thought, didn’t fucking matter.

  In fact, it didn’t matter what anyone said or thought. I still wanted Kennedy. I still loved her and I didn’t give a fuck if it was “wrong” to want her.

  But desiring and actually acting on what I wanted were two very different things.

  And the last thing I wanted to do was put Kennedy in a position that made her feel uncomfortable and awkward. And your step-cousin saying he loved you would probably do just that.

  Chapter Four

  Kennedy

  When I was in the water I felt free, weightless. It was like I was in my own world, the water surrounding me, pushing me.

  I liked doing laps because I could think, could let my mind wander as I pushed myself harder and faster through the water.

  It was one of the only times I was able to just focus on the here and now. I didn’t worry about grades or finals. I didn’t worry about making my father proud.

  But the one thing I couldn’t get away from, the one thing that was with me always, was the thought of Roman and all the things I wanted with him.

  I pumped my arms faster, the water being pushed out of my way as I propelled myself forward. My fingertips touched the wall of the pool and I flipped, bracing my feet on it and pushing myself off, gliding through the water until I started moving my arms and legs again.

  When I got to the other side, I stopped, emerging from the water and taking in a deep breath. This rush filled me as the adrenaline in my body peaked.

  I climbed out of the pool and sat on the edge, taking a second to just catch my breath. I pulled my goggles off and set them to the side, then went for my swim cap. The latter was the only thing I hated about swimming. The damn thing felt like it was cutting off oxygen to my head.

  There were a few swimmers in the lanes to my right, but other than that it was a pretty slow day. Just the way I liked it.

  Even though I liked to run, did it daily if I could, running didn’t give me the same freedom as I felt when I swam.

  “Hey.”

  I looked up and to my left when I heard Isaac’s deep voice. “Hey back.”

  He was all set to swim, with his university regulation swim cap on, his goggles resting against his forehead, and his Speedo showing off every single hard, toned inch of him.

  Isaac had been my friend for the last two years, someone who had always been there for me to talk to, feel comfortable around. He didn’t judge me for my lack of social interaction and popularity, and although we came from different tiers of society, him coming from a very well-off family, his father the owner of several large corporations in the state, and me at the bottom of that pole more or less, we still hit it off right away.

  When I’d first moved here, I hadn’t known anyone. But Isaac had been there to take me under his wing despite the protests from his friends. Because, who in the hell wanted to hang out with the new girl who looked like the school geek?

  But he hadn’t cared about any of that. He was a good guy, sweet and understanding, and didn’t care that I spent a lot of time in the library with my nose in a book. Usually he was right there with me.

  He was the whole package, personality, swagger, looks, and a genuinely decent guy. He was also gay, which was something no one else knew aside from me. His fear of admitting that to anyone, of coming out to his family and friends, had him pretending to be someone he wasn’t, and I knew he loathed it, hated pretending.

  And I hated that for him. I wished he could be honest with the people who should have supported him the most.

  On the heels of that, I also felt like the worst friend, given the fact he’d trusted me with his deepest secret, yet I couldn’t admit how I felt about Roman to him.

  “Are you done for the day?” he asked as he stopped a few feet from me.

  I grabbed my cap and goggles and stood, walking over to the bleachers and taking one of the towels that l
ay across it. “Yeah, spent the last half hour doing laps. I have to get home and study for midterms.” After drying myself off, I wrapped the towel around my waist and secured the edge at my hip. I faced him and smiled. “But you’re more than welcome to be my study buddy if you want.” I lifted a brow, already knowing he would decline.

  He snorted. “If it’s for trig, count me out. You know that’s like a foreign language to me.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, it’s for trigonometry. And if I’m being honest, that class is like me trying to look over stereo instructions in German. It’s just not getting through. I’ll be lucky if I pass by the skin of my teeth.”

  We stood there for a moment, and I knew I wanted to talk to him about Roman, but I was also afraid. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Isaac, but more so that I didn’t trust myself and my emotions where Roman was concerned.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Isaac knitted his brows, looking concerned.

  “I...” I looked away, watched a couple of swimmers making laps. “Can I ask you something on a personal level?” I glanced back over at him and saw him lift an eyebrow, the curious expression on his face making me even more nervous. I didn’t know why I felt this way. This was Isaac, a guy I could talk to about anything, but I felt where Roman was concerned it was something I wanted to keep close.

  I wasn’t ashamed, but fear of judgment held me back. And I hated that.

  “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” I felt like he could see my apprehension, hesitation and that it hurt him.

  “I know, it’s just...” I breathed out, about to just say the words openly for the first time. “If you really liked someone, but you were afraid of what others would think, that being with that person would be considered wrong, almost taboo, would you go for it or keep how you felt a secret?” As I said those words out loud to Isaac, I realized how true they rang for him as well. In that moment, as the words hung between us, I felt guilty for not opening up to him sooner.

  “Well, you see where I stand on that, given the fact I can’t talk to anyone but you about, well, you know what.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “But if I were to find someone I really cared about, loved even, I would risk anything to be with them. I truly believe that happiness is important no matter what.” He smirked. “But they’d have to be pretty special for me to come out before I was really ready to.” He chuckled softly.

  I nodded and looked down at my bare feet, my toenails painted the same peachy color as my fingernails. I don’t know why I bothered primping myself. I wouldn’t be considered a girly girl by any means, but painting my nails was a guilty pleasure I liked doing, even if no one ever noticed but me.

  “Hey,” he said softly. I glanced up at him. “I know I’ve said this many times before, but you really can trust me.”

  “I know,” I said softly. “I guess saying it out loud is kind of scary.”

  He gave me a sad smile. “Believe me, I know.” He reached out and pushed a strand of hair off my shoulder in a comforting gesture.

  I smiled and reached out to give him a hug. “Thanks for letting me unload ... kind of.” He chuckled and I pulled away.

  “Maybe you’ll tell me all about who this mystery guy is that’s got you all in knots.”

  I nodded, feeling my cheeks heat, knowing my face was probably red. Right now wasn’t the time for this. I couldn’t tell Isaac just yet, not until I fully understood what was going on.

  He got this understanding expression on his face.

  “Listen, I’m the last person who would ever judge you. And if you’re not ready to tell me, I’m cool with that. I’m always here for whenever you are. But for you to be burdened with how you feel for someone and keeping it a secret tells me you must really care for him.”

  I nodded right away, knowing Isaac would understand, even if I couldn’t be totally honest with him.

  “All I can say is be honest with yourself and him, whoever this mystery guy is. It’s not like you’re committing some mortal sin.” He chuckled at the look I gave him, because the truth was our family might very well see this as a sin. “All I’m saying is if you never say anything, even if rejection is a possibility, then you’ll regret it forever.”

  I knew he was right, but even with the threat that our families would be pissed, that society itself would look down on a relationship we had—maybe—what scared me the most was me confessing how I felt and Roman rejecting me.

  A broken heart was a scary thing to possibly look forward to.

  Chapter Five

  Kennedy

  “Please don’t do this to me now,” I whispered, hearing my car make this weird noise, then seeing smoke rise out from the engine. I looked down at my dashboard, saw the temperature gauge spike to hot, and started freaking out. “Dammit.”

  I was only about twenty minutes from my dad and step-mom’s place, but that might as well be across the state with how my car was acting. I pulled off to the side of the road and cut the engine, this weird clicking noise filling the interior of the car, smoke billowing out even more profusely.

  “Shit,” I cursed, pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose, and reached across the seat for my cell. I looked up a tow company, made the call, and after hanging up, I sat there and waited for them to show up. Our small town only had a couple mechanic shops, so it only made sense that I have my car towed to Roman’s. I wouldn’t trust anyone else not to screw me over, and I know Roman would never do that.

  I sent a text to my dad about the car trouble, and for the next five minutes went back and forth with him, trying to convince him I didn’t need him to come out here, that the tow was on its way, and I was taking the car to Roman’s shop.

  Thinking about Roman screwing me over shouldn’t have had a flush stealing over me.

  Twenty minutes later I was out of the car and letting the guy hook it up to be towed.

  The guy had a potbelly and was wearing a grease stained shirt with the company logo embroidered on the upper right chest. His stomach hung slightly out the bottom of the shirt, one that was about two sizes too small, and his hair was pulled back in an oily ponytail. “You can climb in the cab. It’ll only be a few more minutes.”

  I headed to the passenger side and climbed in, pushing the empty fast food bags out of the way with my foot and wrinkling my nose at the smell of old cigarette smoke and hamburger grease. He climbed into the driver’s side and slammed the door shut.

  “Where we towing you to?”

  “Randy’s, please.” His answer was a nod and then he put the truck into drive and pulled out onto the road.

  We were at Randy’s about ten minutes later and I was out of the truck before he finished filling out some paperwork on a clipboard he had beside him. Adjusting my purse, I lifted my hand and blocked the sun as I stared at the big sign telling me I was at Randy’s Mechanic Shop.

  He was out of the truck a moment later, handing me paperwork to sign for insurance and payment, and then he was unhooking my car and driving off. I was left standing there feeling out of place and annoyed.

  The double bay garage doors were open and I could hear rock music faintly in the background. I headed toward the front door of the shop, pulled it open, and looked around. After shoving the paperwork in my purse, I walked up to the front desk. It had the typical mechanic shop “dirty” feel going on, with a corkboard behind the desk, food flyers tacked to it, handwritten notes beside those.

  I’d never actually been to Roman’s work, and for some reason it made me feel a little more connected to him, a little closer.

  God, I’m losing it.

  Through the large windows, I could see several guys working on cars. I didn’t see Roman, though.

  I turned and faced one of the walls, seeing a list of some of the employees and their positions. At the top was his name, Roman, lead mechanic. I felt pride knowing he’d worked hard for that.

  I knew he’d been a rowdy teenager, getting in trouble, running around with the wron
g crowd. But despite all of that, he had a good job, a place of his own. He’d even picked up a few part-time classes at the college.

  So, no matter what my father thought, there was no harder working man that I knew than Roman.

  The sound of a door opening behind me drew me out of my thoughts. I turned around, feeling my eyes widen when I saw Roman. I didn’t know why I reacted like that. I knew he worked here, but seeing him in his element did something instant to me.

  He was wearing these stonewashed blue coveralls, zipped down a few inches to expose a white shirt underneath. He had the sleeves rolled up, grease covering his hands and forearms. His hair was messy from working all day, and sweat dotted his brow. He looked dirty, but in a good way.

  God, did he look good, almost better than when he was cleaned up.

  He looked surprised to see me as well, but then he gave me a lopsided grin and I felt my heart flutter and my belly clench.

  “Hey you. What are you doing here?” He walked up to the counter and leaned against it, continuing to wipe off his hands, the grease being transferred from them to that piece of cloth.

  I found myself transfixed at the sight, his hands so big and masculine, his fingers long … strong. I couldn’t help but think about what it would feel like to have those hands on my body, pulling me closer, pinning me down on the bed as he took me.

  They were such crude thoughts, visuals that had me instantly wet. For not having any sexual experience, they certainly were filthy enough.

  “My car is doing weird stuff,” I said awkwardly and gestured outside to where the tow truck had dropped it off. I looked back at Roman, and saw him watching me. After a second he looked out the window.

  I couldn’t help but look at the line of his neck, the muscle that ran right underneath, following it down to that dip at the base of his throat. His skin was golden, and the sight had my heart racing. I clenched my hands in the straps of my purse and kept it close to me, as if it were an anchor, a lifeline.