Tempting Sydney (3 page)

“I work in the afternoons,” he paused as he passed by me, his arm brushing mine. Heat raced through my veins at the slight touch. He leaned down next to my ear, and in a low tone said, “in case you want me under your hood.”

He said the last part with blatant innuendo. I felt my cheeks go hot as he picked up his tool box.

“See you around, sixty-nine.”

“Blue Eyes called you sixty-nine?” Brynn asked, her mouth gaping. “That. Is. Awesome!”

I took a sip of my soda. “It’s the year of my car. That’s why he said it.”

“Uh huh, sure it is,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you really believe that, you’re way more gullible than I thought.”

I shifted my eyes away from her, taking in the room. Standard college party. The air smelled like alcohol and too much perfume. The girls were wearing next-to-nothing, and the guys were hoping they’d get to take the next to nothing pieces off. I wasn’t interested in the guys, but Brynn liked going to these parties, and I liked spending time with her. Plus, I didn’t want her going alone, without someone to have her back. “You’re making a bigger deal out of the situation than you should,” I reasoned, also trying to convince myself.

“He made sexual references all through the conversation with you. That’s a big deal.” Her voice went high and sing-songy. “He liiikkkes you.”

“He doesn’t like me. He barely talked to me, and made me feel like an awkward teenager again.”

“But when he
did
talk to you, he totally flirted.” Brynn watched me with a knowing expression. “I saw the way you looked at him at lunch. And the way he looked at you. It was like he was hungry, and you were absolutely willing to be eaten.”

I gasped. “I am
not
willing to be eaten,” I said, affronted. “In fact, I’ve been very good about not being eaten in the past! Law degree first, remember?”

“That’s what you’ve always said, but this time is different.” She studied me for a moment, tapping a finger against her lips. “You’re interested in him.
Really
interested. I think he might just be the man who breaks your no-sex streak.”

I made a pssh noise, though my heart was pounding at even the thought. “You saw him. A nun would be interested! But I’m only interested in looking. That’s all.”

My mind was racing with thoughts about Blue Eyes—I still didn’t even know his name—and our interaction. I’d replayed it over in my head at least thirty times in the past three hours. I had it memorized. I’d probably dream about it. I’d even considered pretending to be sick so I could go home and analyze it some more—with aid from my naughty box. I couldn’t keep talking about it, though, or it would make me even more crazy. “How was your ‘research session’ the other day?” I asked, changing the subject.

Brynn made a disgusted noise like she was completely over it. “Not great. My research is underway, though. I’ve started taking notes and compiling a list of my past observations.”

I burst out laughing. I didn’t realize she was taking this so seriously. “Do you tell the guys about your research before, or after, they drop their pants?”

Her brows shot up. “Are you crazy? I don’t tell them at all! If word got out, I might start getting sizes that aren’t normal, and that would skew my results. I need an unbiased study.”

I didn’t point out that she was probably the most biased person in the world when it came to penis size, and that her research project had started
because
of her bias. “But if people knew you were looking for bigger sizes, it would help you reach your ultimate goal: getting laid by guys you actually want to have sex with.”

She tilted her glass back, taking a drink. The yeasty smell of cheap beer perfumed the air. “True. But now I’m focused. I really want to get some data on this.”

“I’m sure you do.” I took another sip of my drink—Coke. “Have you found anyone here worth studying?”

“No,” she scanned the room, “I already have info on most of these guys.”

My mouth fell open. We were at a party with a bunch of current and former frat guys. There were at least fifty of them here. “I didn’t realize you had that much time.”

She looked at me like I was nuts. “I haven’t slept with
all
of them. Just some. And the others, well, you hear things.”

My eyes got even wider. “I guess I’m not hanging out with the same people you are. Because you’re the only person I know who openly discusses the size of their partners.”

“That’s because you hang out with books instead of girls.”

I shrugged. I was fine with that.

“I know some guys who’d like to be studied,” a voice behind me said.

I shifted and turned to see Collin. He used one hand to brace himself on the back of the couch, then jumped between me and Brynn. There wasn’t a lot of room between us to begin with, but that didn’t deter him. “Hey!” I yelled, trying to steady my Coke. “You almost spilled my drink all over my shirt.” I glared at him. He was wearing dark wash jeans with a black tee that had a deep green dragon design on it. It looked like something that would be sold at a sci-fi / fantasy convention.

“I would have helped you clean it up,” he said, brows waggling.

I rolled my eyes. Collin was a massive flirt, often annoying, and occasionally, a nice guy. He and Brynn had hooked up before, and were still friends. I put up with him—and all of her dates and booty calls—because she was my bestie. “I would have taken my chances with the stain.”

He shrugged and moved on. “Can I get you ladies anything? Food, drinks, condoms?”

I gave Brynn a look that said,
this is unbelievable
. She grinned, amused. “You could tell me when you’re going to start singing. Because that’s what I really came for.”

His lips spread revealing a bright smile. “I aim to please,” he said, jumping up and standing on the cheap, fabricated wood coffee table in front of us. He lifted his hand, miming a microphone, and started singing a teen pop song about love gone wrong at the top of his lungs. It was off-key, horrible, and he was making a total spectacle of himself. I was glad I’d stayed for it. Just as he got to the chorus for the second time, I heard a loud crack and the coffee table legs gave out. The table crashed to the ground, taking Collin with it. The room fell silent at the abrupt end to his performance. I stood up to see if he was okay or needed help, but my assistance wasn’t required. Collin popped up off the ground and in the middle of the coffee table wreckage, he picked right back up where he’d left off in the song.

Everyone clapped and laughed. My initial thought was that I was glad he was okay. My second thought was that if he kept treating his house like this, he wasn’t going to get his rent deposit back. Looking around at everyone else in the room having a great time, I was pretty sure I was the only one who’d had that thought.

After the party, I’d spent some time thinking about my extremely practical reaction to Collin’s coffee table destruction. Instead of laughing and having a good time like everyone else, I’d immediately gone into “adult” mode in my head, ticking off the reasons Collin had been irresponsible, and the issues that would arise from his error in judgment.

Part of my problem was that unlike most people, I analyzed every action, and its potential consequences, before I made a move. There was a reason for that. For a long time, things in my life had been completely unpredictable—and scary. The uncertainty made me feel like every day I was treading water, unsure whether that would be the day my legs finally gave out. It had affected me to the point that I tried to control my environment as much as possible. I liked things safe, organized, practical—and apparently, pretty damn boring. That made me pretty damn boring myself. I was sick of being practical, and I wanted to have a little fun. Not “get knocked up” fun, but I’d convinced myself some flirting wouldn’t be a bad idea.

So, in the spirit of trying to be more social and act twenty-three instead of fifty, I decided to get She-Ra’s overflow fixed. While that might not seem like anything out of the ordinary, it was. I’d purposefully waited until four o’clock in the afternoon, when I knew Blue Eyes would be there to work on my car. I was going to get She-Ra fixed, and possibly even flirt. And if that went well, maybe I’d do something completely irrational like not fill up my gas tank until it got below a quarter of a tank instead of a half. Baby steps.

“Hey, Syd!” Red said as I opened the glass front door of his shop waiting area. He was standing behind the counter; an office with a door was behind that. Red’s mechanic shop was on one of the busiest streets in town. The outside of the building had wood siding, painted white with bright red trim. Four gas pumps sat in front of the garage. A sign declaring it Red’s Gas and Auto Repairs hung above the large garage shop doors. He had a waiting area with popcorn, drinks, and candy for people who didn’t have to wait long for a repair to be done—you know, the people with cars that weren’t as old as their parents.

“Hey.” I leaned against the counter, kicking one leg out and resting an elbow on the laminate countertop. I was trying to pose in a flattering way in case Blue Eyes made an appearance. I’d already done a scan of the outside of the shop. He wasn’t there. Maybe he’d lied about his hours. I frowned as I thought about that. Red would surely tell him when I came in. Then he’d know I was there during the afternoon and make assumptions about why. They’d be correct assumptions, but that didn’t matter as much as the fact that they’d be embarrassing assumptions that would confirm I’d come to the shop at the exact time he’d told me to. I sighed inwardly. Nothing I could do about it now. If I ever saw Blue Eyes again, and if he asked, I’d just say this was my only free time. I almost laughed at that. I was already rationalizing things, thinking of worst-case scenarios, and coming up with ways to manage them. I needed to stop; I needed to learn to relax. And, I reminded myself, I was here to try to change that exact problem. “I came in to get my overflow fixed.”

Red nodded, pulling out his keyboard from under the desk. He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose as he typed. “I heard about that.”

“Yeah. The new guy figured it out pretty fast.”
Red nodded. “He’s been here for a few weeks. I was lucky to get him. He has a lot of experience.”

“I bet he does,” I mumbled, thinking his experience probably encompassed a hell of a lot more than cars. An image of Blue Eyes from the other night, leaning over She-Ra, popped into my head. The muscles in his back bunching with each twist of his wrench—the same muscles that would be flexed if he was leaning over me instead. I dragged in a ragged breath before Red coughed, trying to get my attention.

I blinked, and noticed Red looking at me over the top of his wire rimmed glasses, like he was analyzing me or something. I was fine with analyzing myself, but I didn’t like when other people did it. I quickly changed the subject. “So,” I said, absently picking up a card from a stack on the counter and tapping it against the laminate, “can you fit She-Ra in today?”

Red hit a button and his printer started up. He grabbed the invoice and started to walk to the door between the waiting room and the garage. “Park her in the first bay.”

I put the card back down and noticed what was printed on it for the first time. An ad for a local haunted house. It was only August. I shook my head, thinking that haunted houses seemed to be starting earlier every year. I picked it back up and slid it in my purse. Haunted houses weren’t practical and boring, and they were definitely out of my comfort zone. I might have to drag Brynn to it with me.

Red guided me as I pulled She-Ra into the garage and parked. I felt a little more deflated as I looked around and saw three employees, none of them with bright blue eyes or an attitude. The jerk. His work hour declaration had been a trick.

I got out and opened the hood, showing Red the hose and damage.

“It’s an easy fix. Shouldn’t take long.”

“She could probably fix it herself,” a deep baritone voice that was
so
not chipmunk-like said from behind me. My stomach jumped and my legs felt like soup. Where in the world had he been hiding? I’d looked for him! I turned slowly, taking in his messy hair that peeked out from under his black ball cap, jeans, and tight black tee shirt with Red’s name and logo plastered in white and red on the front of his chest. I licked my lips, and wondered if it was normal to suddenly be jealous of a logo. My reaction wasn’t lost on him—one corner of his lips lifted as he continued, “When I rescued her on the side of the road, she told me she’s pretty good with,” he paused, his eyes glinting, “cars.” That particular discussion had also involved innuendo, but I saw no reason to clue Red into that.