Wreck My World

by Victoria Ashley

  She leans into me for a moment, as if she’s enjoying me against her as much as I am, before she slams on the brakes, causing us both to fly forward with force.

  “Fuck, Kota. Are you all right?” Panic sets in as I grab her face and pull it toward to me to check for blood. I can’t be sure with how hard we flew forward if she hit her head or not. “Did you hurt anything?”

  Her eyes soften as I look her over, examining her forehead, but she doesn’t speak. “Kota—answer me.”

  “I’m fine.” She pushes her way out of my lap and crawls back over to where she should’ve stayed to begin with. “Just keep going. I need the distraction. Now!” she yells.

  I cock a brow and reach over to buckle her seatbelt. “You’re not the only one, Kota. Trust me, but your safety comes first. Always will. So, hold on tight.”

  She grabs onto the dashboard and screams as I take off, pushing my truck hard, taking the muddy trail faster than before. Truth is, I need speed right now, too. I need some other kind of rush to clear my head and get me thinking straight.

  The way she reacted to my body against hers has my heart pounding, thought after thought turning, wondering if her heart is racing as fast and chaotic as mine is.

  Even if it did, I may never know. After this, she is sure to push me away even harder than before.

  The trail stretches about thirty minutes on wheels, but as soon as we reach the road that leads back home, I reach into the backseat and give Dakota one of my spare shirts to clean up with.

  She holds it up, while attempting to look in the back. “Is this your only spare shirt?”

  I nod. “Probably. Use it before the mud dries.”

  She shakes her head from beside me. “You can change into it. I’ll be fine until we get home.”

  “Use it,” I say again, but firmer this time. “I don’t need a shirt.”

  Once we hit the next stoplight, I undo my seatbelt and quickly yank my dirty shirt off, tossing it into the backseat.

  I don’t miss Dakota scanning my body over, before she begins cleaning her face off with my clean shirt, pretending to be interested in something out the window.

  “It’s not going to blind you to look, you know.”

  “To look at what?” she asks, still looking out the window.

  But I can tell by the shakiness of her voice that she knows exactly what I mean.

  “My body…” My hands tighten on the steering wheel as we come to another stop. “You turned away in a hurry, as if it’d burn your retinas to look directly at it or you’d get in trouble. I don’t care. Look all you want.”

  “I don’t want to talk about your body, Easton, and I don’t want to look. If I did, I would. We both know I do what I want.”

  “Do you, though?” I ask tightly. “Because I don’t think you do, and we both know I’m right.”

  “Just drive so we can get through the next hour together.” She tosses my once clean shirt into the backseat and turns up the music, making it clear she’s done talking. It’s her way of escaping. Always has been, so I just let her do it and don’t argue.

  I think I need to do a little escaping at the moment myself.

  When we arrive back at the shop, I follow Dakota inside to Kevin’s office. He’s the only one here since it’s Sunday.

  He takes one look at me and Dakota covered in mud and gives us a confused look. “I thought I sent you guys to fix a bike. Not to roll around in the mud.”

  “Do you need me for anything else?” Dakota asks, ignoring her dad’s comment. “If not, then I’m going home to shower and take a long nap.”

  Kevin looks at me and reaches out to shake my hand. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I should get cleaned up too.” I pat Kevin’s shoulder. “I’ll see you around eight.”

  I feel Dakota’s eyes on me as I walk away, but she doesn’t say anything.

  Her and I both know she wanted to check out my body, and probably even touch it too. She also knows I wanted her to. It’s not hard to see that I don’t just think of her as Roman’s little sister. I never have. Since the day I walked into their house all those years ago, she’s been so much more.

  After I jump inside my dirty-ass truck, I make a pitstop at the local liquor store for a bottle of whiskey.

  I’m greeted with Ben’s intense gaze when walking back out, letting me know he’s watching me. He stands still, leaning against his white Ford, arms crossed as I make my way to my truck, his eyes trailing along. He waits until I jump inside before he climbs into his and drives off.

  It doesn’t take much thought for me to know what kind of day this is going to be. I’ll go back to my hotel room, pop a few pills to calm my nerves, and then chase them down with a bottle of Jack to help shut my mind off.

  It’s what most of my days have consisted of since the day I walked away.

  Dakota

  Last night, seeing that familiar tattoo of a King’s crown etched into his sculpted side—Easton with his shirt off—did nothing but bring me back to one of the most painful nights of my life. It’s one I can never take back, and it kills me every second of every day.

  I did well keeping my cool until that point. Even with the way he looked while working on the Henderson Four—so sexy and confident. I was able to keep up a façade, as if my body wasn’t fighting me with everything it had, telling me that I wanted and needed to be near Easton Crews. That I desperately craved to touch his beautiful body and feel it beneath my fingertips.

  But then all that went to Hell the moment I pushed him into letting me behind the wheel of his truck. I can’t deny that it felt better than anything else being in Easton’s lap, and it felt the best when his hard dick was pressing against my ass.

  I played it off for as long as I could, but as soon as his fingers dug into my hips as if he was enjoying my ass rubbing against his erection too much, I lost it, and almost hurt us both.

  I was ashamed at first; afraid that Easton knew how he was making me feel, but he quickly distracted me with his driving just like old times.

  I was having fun again, living carefree, but then that shirt of his came off and he had the nerve to tell me it’s okay to look at his body, as if he secretly knew just how badly I wanted to.

  His muscles flexing as he gripped the steering wheel and hit the gas of his powerful truck had my body on fire, with a need so intense that all I could do was crank up the music to get lost in another world before I could do anything I’d later regret.

  His body is even better than I remember, and that’s exactly why it’s going to suck that my father hired him at the shop while he’s back in town. Not that I’d expect any different, since my father thinks of him as a son, but I guess I was hoping he’d just be here for the friends and the party and it wouldn’t come down to that.

  How am I supposed to function and concentrate on work when I know Easton will be in the same room with me for hours at a time, all muscled to perfection and covered in grease? He’s sexy enough as it is, but get him dirty and he’s always been completely irresistible.

  I learned that years ago when he taught me how to work on bikes for the first time. We were young, but I still knew he was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen in that moment. He’s the reason I started liking dirty boys to begin with.

  Watching him work yesterday reminded me of that.

  Honestly, I think I managed maybe four hours of sleep last night, because every time I tossed and turned in the middle of the night, my thoughts went to Easton back in that garage.

  Like the way he smirked whenever he noticed me watching him work. Or how he rubbed his hands together with confidence every time he finished working on a certain part. And even remembering when I caught him looking at me with concern anytime I cussed and got frustrated.

  Now, here I am pulling up at the shop, about to be stuck with Easton again, and I’m not sure I’m ready for this. Especially since my brother is here, for some reason, and I have no idea how long he plan
s on staying.

  If I slip up and catch myself staring at Easton while he works—he’s so easy to get lost in—my brother will be the first to notice and call me out on it. He’s already suspicious enough as it is thanks to Blake and her bitchy mouth.

  “Just great,” I mumble, yanking my helmet off.

  The first place I go once I get inside is to my father’s office. He’s going through invoices, as usual, to see who owes what and who’s picking up bikes today.

  “You’re early, Dakota. Should I be concerned?” He stops what he’s doing to look over at me as I grab my dirty shoes and change into them. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another hour.”

  I toss my boots under his desk and stand up in a hurry, ready to escape this conversation before it can get started. “Nope. Nothing to be concerned about. I need to get that Dodge Tomahawk ready and running by noon. It’ll take me most of the morning.”

  “It’s already done,” he says, stopping me in my tracks just as I’m about to walk out the office.

  “What do you mean it’s done? No one in the shop wanted to touch that thing, afraid they’d mess something up and have to pay for it.”

  My father smiles proudly and reaches for his mug of coffee. “Easton has been here since five this morning. I came and let him in, and he’s been working his ass off ever since. The boy is a hard worker. You learned from the best.”

  I can feel my heart slamming against my chest over the knowledge that my father gave one of my jobs to Easton without even asking me. He’s only just gotten here, and already he’s messing up the schedule.

  “I wish you would’ve asked me first. I told Anderson from my very own mouth that I would be the one to work on his bike. He’s very cautious of who he even lets come near that thing.” I grip the door and take a deep breath, before slowly releasing it. I’m about to lose my cool. “If there are any scratches or anything not done one hundred percent, then it’s on my ass. That was supposed to be my first project this morning and I was more than ready to handle it.”

  My father shrugs as if it’s not a big deal. “Oh, calm down, Dakota. You know Easton wouldn’t mess up. He’s the best mechanic around other than you. Besides, there’s at least six other projects that need to get done today. I’m leaving it up to you to assign jobs and make sure they’re all pushed out that door come closing time. Got it?”

  “Yeah…” I push away from the door. “Got it.”

  I’m not sure why I’m so angry right now. I know more than anyone what Easton is capable of, yet it pisses me off to no end that he worked on the hardest project of the day.

  Maybe it’s because I know that I desperately needed that distraction today. I needed something that would consume my mind and make it impossible to get distracted by Easton being here, and he just ruined that.

  I take a moment to walk back and forth down the hall to calm down for a few seconds, before I make my way into the shop. My brother and Easton are sitting around talking like old times, while Easton works on the Harley that got dropped off last Friday.

  They haven’t noticed me yet, so I stand back and listen.

  “I’m pretty sure that megaphone has been close to being shoved up Stiles’ ass a few times. He’s damn brave, I tell ya. I’d be walking around with my ass clenched at all times,” Roman says with a lifted brow, while pulling out a power bar. “I’m a bit concerned for the dude’s safety at times, but he’s my best friend now that you’re gone. Things have been decent, but I won’t lie, it’s nice having you back for a bit.”

  “It’s good to be back,” Easton says, without looking up. “And Stiles… he’s crazy as hell at times, but a good dude for sure.” He pauses for a second, as if to think something over. “What’s the deal with that Reese guy? He works here with your sister?”

  “Are you two gossiping like teenage girls in here?” I uncross my arms and watch as Easton’s jaw flexes, before he tosses his tool down.

  Apparently, I stopped them at a bad time, because I know that look in Easton’s eyes all too well. Although, I have no idea why he would care about Reese. He’s harmless to anyone.

  “And to answer your question, yes, Reese works here. He has for the past three years. He’s a pretty good mechanic too.” Without bothering to put my jumpsuit on, I crouch down in front of the red Yamaha and get straight to work.

  “Oh yeah? So, he’ll be coming in today?” Easton questions with his claw clamped tight.

  Roman stands up to stretch his legs, looking down at Easton while he continues to work on the bike. Even I can see how tense he looks as he works, but apparently, Roman doesn’t catch on for some reason. “Just like every Monday. Why, what’s up? You two have barely spoken in all the years you’ve known each other.”

  “Just wanted to talk to him about something I saw at the bar the other night. That’s all. Nothing I can’t take care of.” I catch the smallest hint of a smile on Easton’s face, before he goes back to concentrating on the bike in front of him.

  It’s been quiet for a while, and although I know I shouldn’t be worried about what my brother and Easton are talking about across the room, I can’t help but look over every few minutes, trying to read Easton’s lips. I’m curious as to why he’s asking about Reese working here with me.

  He catches me looking a few times, and even when our gazes meet, it’s hard to look away, even though I know I should before my brother catches us staring each other down.

  We’re looking at each other with hate-filled eyes, as if we want to rip each other’s heads off, or clothes. Same difference. At least, that’s how I’m feeling inside, even though I know it’s wrong.

  So very wrong.

  I’m so distracted I don’t even notice Talon standing behind me until he grabs my shoulder and laughs. “You okay over here? You seem a little…” He follows my gaze over to Easton, who is staring right back at us. “Distracted.”

  My brother spins around on the bucket he’s been sitting on to look at me, an unpleasant look following that has guilt swarming through me. “We were just talking right before you walked in. That’s why.”

  Roman’s jaw clenches, as if he’s in defense mode.

  “Ah, okay,” Talon says casually, preparing to work. “Did I miss anything good?”

  “Nope,” Easton says stiffly. “Just that I think I’m going to take on as many hours as I can while I’m in town. There’s a lot of work here that needs to be done.”

  He can’t be serious…

  “Right on.” Talon goes to work, as if everything is normal. He doesn’t even question Easton being here in the first place. which tells me he most likely knew Easton would be helping here before I did.

  Roman gets my attention as he jumps to his feet and reaches for his cellphone. “Shit, I gotta do a few things before I head into the pub this morning.” He turns to give me a stern look—a silent warning of some kind—before he says his goodbyes to Easton and Talon and walks toward our father’s office.

  I don’t like the way this day is starting out. The last thing I need is Easton being here, breathing down my neck every second he can.

  “You don’t need to spend any more time here than necessary. We’ve been getting by just fine without you.” I point out once I walk past Easton to grab a tool. “Maybe you should worry about spending time with your old friends while you’re here instead. Who knows when you’ll just up and leave again.”

  “Maybe I am.” He stands up and grabs my wrist, stopping me before I can walk back by him. “Or did you forget that we were just as close as Roman and I, or even closer? Besides…” He wipes his hands off on his jeans and steps in my personal space so no one else can hear him. “We still have to talk about the other night at the bar. I let it go yesterday because I knew you were tired. But I won’t let it go for another day.”

  Angry, I yank my wrist out of his grip and bump him out of my way as I move past him. “It’s done and over with. Just like our friendship, so let’s leave it that way and move on.”
>
  The words sting even me, but I can’t stop them from flying out of my mouth. I don’t turn behind me, but I don’t have to look at him to know that I’ve pissed him off.

  The sound of metal hitting cement tells me just how angry my words have made him. He’s throwing tools.

  I hear a low growl behind me, and then Easton throws himself into his work, barely stopping to take a break or breathe for at least an hour.

  Even Reese and Mitch showing up didn’t stop him. He’s kept to himself for the last three hours, only stopping occasionally to glance over at Reese, as if to make sure he’s doing his job right.

  What’s bad is that I notice every single time, which only proves that I’m watching him.

  I can’t take this anymore. I can’t work like this.

  Before I can finish working on my second and final project, I drop my tools and stand up, rubbing my dirty hands over my face in frustration.

  I feel like I’m suffocating, and I’m not even wearing that hideous suit this time.

  With every glance I steal of Easton, my chest tightens, as if it’s ready to explode because I want nothing more than to talk to him when I should be pissed and want nothing to do with him.

  Just hours ago, he had the nerve to claim that we used to be close. Possibly even closer than he and Roman have always been, yet he didn’t feel the need to let me know he was leaving after Quinn died, with no trace of him since.

  He just left. I didn’t even find out until the next day. I cried myself to sleep for weeks after that, and not just because I was grieving the loss of a sister I loved dearly, but because I felt abandoned by a best friend who I realized most likely never cared about me the same way I cared about him.

  “I can’t be here!” I yell out, feeling as if the walls are closing in on me. Easton stands up and walks toward me, but I take a step back, needing to get away. “Not while you’re here sucking the air from the room. I can’t fucking breathe.”