Wait With Me (Wait With Me, #1)(54)

“And believe me, we want to pick at every part of that.” Green Shirt leers at Alexa so hard, my teeth grind.

I slam a fist on the counter in front of me and say, “Hey! This isn’t ordering a girl off the internet, moron. Do you want your fucking tire fixed or not?”

Pink Polo’s eyes fly wide. “Who’s your goddamn manager? I want to speak to him.”

Sam’s voice cuts in, telling us to calm down as Green Shirt and I stare at each other over the counter. He’s a good five inches shorter than me, but his privilege makes him think he’s untouchable, and I can’t stand douchebags like that. It’s exactly the kind of dude Jocelyn was looking for and found apparently.

“Manager. Now,” Pink Polo states again, and Sam presses a hand to my chest.

“Just go back to the shop,” he says, turning his back on the two douchebags and shoving me backward a few steps. Through clenched teeth, he adds, “I’ll let my uncle deal with these fuckers.”

I narrow my eyes one more time at the pair and exhale heavily, turn on my heel, and make my way out of the reception area and back into the alley for some air.

I take a deep breath of the balmy summer air and bite off the ends of my licorice. “I really wish this was a cigarette,” I mumble to myself as I suck air through the hole.

Frustrated that it has zero effect, I chuck the piece of stupid candy on the opposite wall. I’m so in my own head I didn’t even hear Mercedes approach when her voice says, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’d that licorice ever do to you?”

I swerve my eyes to her and eye her outfit. It’s that blue summer dress with the pink flowers. The one that shows her whole ass if she turns in it.

“Nothing,” I reply through clenched teeth.

“What’s going on with you?” she asks, her blue eyes looking me up and down. “You look like you’re ready to rip someone’s head off.”

I shake my head and drop my eyes to her dress. “Nice dress.”

She half-smiles. “I thought you might like it.”

“So long as you don’t twirl in it,” I state firmly.

Her brows pull together. “What’s going on with you?”

“What’s going on with you?” I volley back.

She frowns in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“What’s your deal lately? You’re not into me anymore? Someone better come along to help you with your research?” Dean maybe?

“Miles, you’re acting crazy. I was actually going to ask you if you’d show me your place tonight.”

“Tonight?” I ask, pressing a hand against the brick and trying to calm myself down in some small way.

“Yeah, after work, maybe. I want to see your house, specifically your garage. You know…research. Get our hands dirty.” She waggles her brows suggestively.

I nod, my jaw tight. “Fine.”

“Well, don’t look so thrilled,” she balks.

I blink slowly, knowing she doesn’t deserve this. Those two douchebags set me off, and her timing was just too close on the heels of that bullshit. “Sorry…I’m good with this.”

“Good!” she states and gives my arm a shake. With that simple touch of her hand on me, my mood lightens as she adds, “But I have to say there’s something seriously hot about seeing you in a mood…I hope that works to our advantage later.”

She winks, and already, I can think of about five different places I want to lose myself inside her at my house. I feel this strange desire to claim her further. I pin her with a serious look and reply, “Babe…having you in my house gives us all sorts of advantages.”

Her eyes alight with anticipation as she replies. “I can’t wait. Now, go take your anger out on some poor car and pick me up back here after you’re done.”

I nod and watch her skirt sway in the wind as she strides back toward the employee entrance of the comfort center.





I could have picked his house out by a mile. Pun intended. With my arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Miles pulls down a short gravel lane that’s tucked away from the main highway that runs through Jamestown. When a rusty, shabby chic ranch nestled right in some beautiful foothills comes into view, I know it’s his place. It just screams, Miles: masculine, rustic, and a little overgrown.

The outside is stained cedar plank siding, and it has two tuck-under garages beneath a huge wraparound porch. He has a couple of Adirondack chairs positioned by his front door, and I can so easily picture him sipping a cup of coffee and gazing at the creek that runs through his property.

He stops his motorcycle in front of the garage and kicks out the kickstand before cutting the motor.

“Oh my God, Miles!” I exclaim, shaking his shoulders a little to show him my enthusiasm.

“What?” he asks, pulling down his aviators and looking over his shoulder at me. His mood seems slightly better than earlier, but I have a feeling I know what will turn him around completely.

“Your place is stunning!” I exclaim, gazing at his face in the setting sun. The golden colors really making his blue eyes pop.

“Eh.” He shrugs and climbs off the bike, turning around to take the helmet from me.

I comb my hair out with my fingers, my eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you kidding? It’s gorgeous!”