Knocked up by the Mechanic

Take care of your hands, boy, my dad used to say. He thought an honest living was as close to godly as you could get. He was a drinker and a rough disciplinarian, but he taught me everything I knew about cars. I missed the old man and I was happy he passed before Kat so he didn’t ever have to see what happened to his daughter.

It had been two days since I left the Brooks mansion, leaving Harley a Post It on the door that said, thanks for the sandwich and the beer, which tasted better when you were around.

In those two days, I’d nearly pulled my hair out from second guessing my note, shot my biceps and my pecs from doing the bench press at home. And finally, absolutely fucking exhausted my cock from jerking in the shower every couple of hours to try to erase the girl from my mind.

She’d texted and I’d ignored it. I hated ignoring her, but she fucked with my head. I didn't need that shit. Any of it. I wanted to kiss her and kill her all in the same breath. And that made me no better than the people I hated. I needed to stay the hell away from Harley if I wanted to keep my own sanity. Not to mention, my job, my home, any ounce of employability I had left in this town.

Of all the stupid, fucked up things I could do. I'd managed to get caught up in a tornado called Harley Brooks. She was so far off limits for me that just jerking off to her image made me feel like I’d hear sirens and a SWAT team would surround my house with my dick still dripping wet. I knew she wanted me like I wanted her. I could smell the desire coming off of her, I could see it in her eyes. But that was never going to happen. I was never fucking with any of these rich girls. No matter how fucking sweet the temptation. I might not have had a lot, but Harley wasn’t worth giving up all I had left. The very little I had left.

I was resting on the bench, soaked through with stress, my brow knit in frustration when my phone started ringing.

"Wyatt Dunne."

"Wyatt, get your ass over here," my best friend Locke shouted. I could hear the house music thumping on the phone.

"Nah, man, I'm beat. I'm gonna just crash."

"Fuck that. It's Friday night."

"Some of us have to work, college boy," I said teasingly. “Just because it’s a heatwave doesn’t make the work go away. If you have a real job, I guess.” I had no resentment toward Locke, but that life could have been mine. All the way through school, I was the one who aced the tests, who was the teacher’s pet, who people said was going places, until I had to start working. I’d let go of the dream, but sometimes the idea of what I’d missed out on still hurt.

"You don't work tomorrow, do you?"

"No, but I've got some other shit to do."

"Like what, laundry?"

"Just shit, okay?" I snapped. “Brooks has a show.”

"He’s got you polishing show cars? Wyatt, you’re better than that. Just come for a drink. We're at Bryce's place. That one Gianna chick is here. South Banks is mixing with East Point tonight, it’s gonna be lit."

"I thought you said you wanted me to come." Locke knew my story. He knew how I felt about the elite crowd in this town.

"I do," he said.

"They why mention a skank I see all the time at Brooks mansion? She fucked a pool boy in my garage and I made him come back in and toss the STD infected condom."

"Well, she's not the one I think you'd be interested in. She's with the Brooks girl and they both showed up really drunk. I don’t want to play vigilante, but you know how these bros roll. I’d ask her to leave, but I think it’d be more trouble than it’s worth at this point."

‘I’ll be there in ten. Don’t let her leave and don’t let anyone touch her. Gianna I don’t care about, but Brooks is my responsibility with her dad out of town. Locke, nobody touches her or I’ll cut off their fucking balls.”

“Ten-four, Wyatt. Ten minutes. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Not an eye, Locke. Nobody fucks with her,” I growled.

I hung up the phone and threw it halfway across the room where it landed on my bed. I rubbed the heels of my palms into my eyes and groaned out loud.

Harley was gutting me and the night hadn’t even begun yet.

…

The truth was, Brooks had asked me to keep an eye on her. He knew I’d be in the garage working and he needed somebody to look out for her now that Carlotta was on leave. I didn’t tell Harley and assumed he didn’t either. But the man would have my head on a stick if I let anything happen to her. He came off like he didn’t care about anything but his cars but he loved his kids, he just truly sucked at showing it.