Jock Blocked

I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good with Stella helping me. She knows how to make me understand shit.” I saw the way Rachel narrowed her eyes before taking a step back. She crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing the twin mounds of her tits nearly up to her chin.

I knew she’d done that on purpose, trying to be suggestive. But what she didn’t get was that every minute I spent in her company was starting to feel like getting my nails ripped off. I thought it was time to cut the cord with her, so to speak.

“You don’t think it’s weird that you spend so much time with her?”

“Nope.”

“Like, she’s never at any parties, and aside from you, she’s got like no friends—”

“I’m going to stop you right there before you dig yourself into a big fucking hole.” She dropped her arms to her sides and lifted her chin, almost as if challenging me. “Stella is my best friend, has been for years. She’s always going to be in my life, no matter what. I’m sorry you’ve got some hang-up with it because you’re jealous of her, but if you say one more nasty remark about her, I might lose my shit, Rachel. You get me?”

And when I said I’d lose my shit, I meant I’d cut her off, ignore her, treat her like a social outcast. She knew that. I could see it in her face, in the way her eyes widened slightly.

If she wanted to be a bitch that was fine, but talking shit about Stella was crossing a line. One I wouldn’t stand for.

Rachel huffed out, but I could see I’d set her straight. I didn’t care if you were a guy or a girl, if you talked shit about Stella, I was going to put you in your place.

“Well, just call me and let me know if you’re coming to Stanley’s.”

I just stood there and stared at her. I wasn’t surprised that obviously what I’d said went in one ear and out the other. She was focused on parties, social status, and nothing else.

Yeah, this shit with her was done.

Before I could respond, even if I would have, she ran up to some of her friends that had stepped inside the building. The girls started giggling, waving their phones around, and flipping their hair over their shoulders.

I headed back into the locker rooms, thinking about how different Stella was from the majority of the girls that we went to school with. She wasn’t superficial or conceited, and didn’t care about looks even though she was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. Her intelligence was so attractive, yet I kept her on the friend level. It was best that way.

I was pretty sure it was anyway. She was too smart for me.

Sure, she had the librarian thing going on with her blue-framed reading glasses and her button-up cardigan, but that just endeared her to me even more.

My best friend.

That’s what she was to me, that’s what she’d always be to me. Through thick and thin. We’d always have each other’s backs.

Just friends.

3

Stella

I filed the last customer invoice for the night, the scent of motor oil perpetually filling my nostrils. I looked down at my shirt, a few grease stains smeared across the light-yellow material.

Perfect.

Then again, working in the body shop, all I had to do was lean against the counter and I had motor oil on me.

“Hey, Pete, I’m heading out for the night,” I said but knew he probably couldn’t hear me over the classic rock playing ear splitting loud, and the clanging of tools hitting the cement floor.

I grabbed my purse and headed out, the parking lot deserted except for a few cars from the guys who’d stayed back for some overtime. I had my bag slung over one shoulder, and twisted it around to reach inside for my keys. I felt the rough edges move against my fingertips and pulled them out. The crunch of gravel underneath my shoes was loud as I made my way toward my car.

The sound of footsteps behind me had me stopping and looking over my shoulder. I saw Ryan, Pete’s new lead mechanic, heading toward his truck. He had a cigarette in his mouth, the end already lit and burning orange as he inhaled. “’Night, Ryan.”

He tipped his chin in my direction, continuing to head toward his truck, his focus on me the whole time.

Once in the car, I started the engine then looked out the driver side window. Ryan still watched me, and when our gazes clashed, he smiled. He placed the cigarette back between his lips, inhaled until the end burned brightly, then exhaled slowly. Smoke filled the interior of his truck.

I knew Cannon wouldn’t like Ryan, not with the way he looked at me, not with the way he was like Pete with wandering eyes, or the filthy shit I heard them all talking about in the back of the garage when they thought I wasn’t around.