I heard him wait until the click of the lock and walk down the steps. Then I went and watched through the blinds as he walked back to the shop, all the way until he was out of my view. Then I stood there longer imagining I could still see him.
I don’t think he was talking of just the car when he said that it was going to be finished. I think he meant this back and forth, cat and mouse game that apparently had been going on since high school. I think he meant that this was it for him and he was claiming me whether I was on board or not so I had better get on board.
Was I ready for this? For him? To really open myself up and try for real? I’ve never really done that. Even before with him, I was guarded. I wasn’t open. He saw the cuts but he didn’t know about them. Now, he knew. He more than knew, he experienced. And he was still trying.
As late as it was I sat down to call my therapist, who kindly took my calls no matter what time it was. She reminded me, just as she always did, that I was enough. I was always going to be enough. I. Am. Enough.
We finished the phone call and I went to the mirror, stripped down and stared. Again. I stand naked in front of it, again. Like I do nearly every night, only tonight felt different. It felt, cleansing. It felt like both an ending and a beginning at the same time. The scars, so red and fresh, raw, that used to be the only things I saw, now fall silent to the pale skin and curves. The upturned rise of my breasts and the mostly toned skin on my stomach. All areas with scars, but the scars don’t seem to even faze me anymore. I study myself in the mirror. I have a pudgy tummy, and thicker thighs. I wish my arms were thinner and didn’t wave for me. But really, it was alive still, after all I had done to it to try and stop that. It deserved a prize, this body of mine.
I run my fingers over the raised welts of the scars, new and old, like saying goodbye to an old friend. A friend who was no good for you, that you knew you had to let go but was still painful to do so. And I did. I said goodbye to the scars. To the girl who cut them. To the boy whose insensitive words had more effect than he ever could have dreamed possible.
People don’t realize the effect their words have. We’ve been taught that words are just that, words. We sit, behind keyboards, where we think we are safe and no one knows us and we type. We type nasty things. We type mean things. We cheat, we lie, we cause hurt and pain and we think there are no consequences because it’s not us. And it’s just words. And no one knows. So, we do it again. And again. Until we have not only scarred others with our words but ourselves as well because we no longer recognize the person staring at us in the mirror.
We think, would I really have said that if the person was in front of me? Of course I would, I’m the shit. I say what I want and mean what I say. But it’s all bravado. We all know the truth. Words hurt. And in hurting others we are trying to even out the hurt other words have caused us. It’s a vicious cycle. One I am choosing to end. Now.
I run my fingers over the last of the scars, saying a quiet goodbye, and get dressed for bed. After washing up, I type out a quick text to Brock, a simple “Thank you’’. It’s not much, but he will get it for what it is. And that is enough.
I fell asleep to happy dreams that night.
Brock
What a day. When I offered to tow the ‘Cuda up to the new shop, I had no real plans but I’m so glad I came. There are some pretty big assholes in the car world that aim at the women, and the women can do circles around their crappy work. I could only imagine how bad the day before had been. Even with me sitting there, staring at them like the ex-con I was, exuding bad vibes, they still made comments that weren’t even suitable for drunks at a bar.
Eventually though, we managed to get it done and hire a pretty damn elite staff. We even already had clients ready to go for the grand opening next week. One week to prepare and I was going to use it to not only get the shop to the top, but to win back Teagan all the way. To prove she was it for me and I was it for her since I was the stupid kid who ruined everything. Who now knew the power of his actions, his words, his emotions. I was new and was going to prove it to her this week.
Starting tomorrow, the new staff would begin setting up and building their stations, finding their specialties and getting ready for opening week. What a week it would be if I had my way. I had some favors called in and I really hope they came through for me. This shop was something special, not just because of Teagan but because of what it was.
Whereas other shops did restorations along with regular maintenance, this shop was purely restoration. All Teagan wanted was to rebuild. We were going to make our name in the resto world as the top. I could see it already. We had the crew and Teagan and I, not to brag, but really, we were amazing. I had the Super Bee I had recently finished coming to be a showcase for the opening week to show off my work and my goal was to get as far as we could with Phoebe this week and show off work as it went. People would be able to see us in action and see how the work was done. It was kind of brilliant.
I walk slowly over to where the ‘Cuda sat on a tow bed connected to my truck and unhooked it before starting the drive home. If this new relationship was going to have any chance, I needed to move much closer or this commute would end things before they even began. Traffic into Denver was killer; thankfully I was still on a high from that amazing kiss I got from Teagan. Unexpected, hell yes. Loved, bet your ass it was. And as I drove and formed the plan, I knew it and more would happen soon.
*****
The shop was crazy the next morning with cars and delivery trucks working their way in and out of the area either picking up or leaving items for opening. Each man and woman (yep- women had flocked to work with Teagan looking for that sense of equality I’m sure they don’t get from other shops) was rapidly working on setting their area as specific as they wanted it. When I walked through the shop, it was interesting to see how each person treated their work bay differently.
Some of the people organized by tool, others by alphabetical order, and some seemed to have no order whatsoever. It’s amazing, since I’ve been in a shop now for over a year and I’m just looking at the people around me. Seeing them as friends and not just people on the outskirts of my life. Now I’m looking and seeing the baby photos on the walls at some stations, the military medals at others. At some, wedding photos, others, obituaries from the war. Whereas in Sub Zero Steele I was just a worker, here, I was one of them. I wanted to know about them and be a part of them. Meeting and getting to know Teagan had changed me in more ways than just one. I wasn’t a one-man world anymore.
I stopped at Joe’s booth. He was an older man in his 60’s who was excellent at restoration because these were the cars he grew up on. I had chatted for a while with him when we were hiring him and learned that he was a family man; now, seeing his station, I noticed that his son was in the military and away somewhere. When he looked up, I shook his hand and told him thank you and thanks for his son. He teared up and shook it off before getting back to work and I continued my circuit around, shaking hands and getting names.
Technically I wasn’t “boss” like Teagan, but she had named me Vice President so I could have power to make decisions on things and men that were difficult or rude to her, could be dealt with by me.
After checking the progress in the shop I headed outside where I found a pair of black boots and old carhart covered legs sticking out from under the ‘Cuda. Teagan was currently working on the struts and basically all of the driving parts of the car. She was determined to get Phoebe as close to finished as she could this week. Thankfully her office and station had been done since she formed the concept for the shop, if the mess in both was any sense of timeline.
I stopped and kneeled down, admiring the effort she was putting in. The bolts and angles you work with under the car fucking suck. It’s fucking hard. She had one lip in her teeth as she focused on tightening various bolts while dealing with the wiring that also had to go
through the same area. She had neatly taped and labeled the wiring to know what went with what, AC etc.
“Got another roll?”
Her cute, face popped out from the undercarriage and she threw the one she had in her hand at me. “PLEASE! Do the engine. Please. Keeping all this wiring organized is gonna take me ages.”
I took the tape and went to work on the frame, using the drop cloth rolls she had placed next to the car as I went. I had covered the windows and lights perfectly by the time the light outside had faded so much I could no longer see what I was doing for sure.
Ripping a final piece of tape, I walked to where Teagan was now taping in the engine and stopped, admiring her ass. It was a stellar ass.
“Teagan?”
She didn’t react.
“Teagan. Hey… babe.” I tried again, this time reaching out and touching her on the shoulder gently to let her know of my presence. She startled and jumped up, nearly nailing her head on the hood.
Quickly I snapped my hand out to pad the impact.
She turned to look at me, taking a moment to focus, and then looked up. “Oh. I guess I was so focused I lost track of time.” She stepped back to see what I had done.
“This looks amazing Brock. Thank you so much. It would have taken me days to do this alone.” She tilted her head and gazed at me, “We work well together.” That last part was more said for her own benefit. I already knew we worked well together.
“Yeah. We do.” I confirmed.
She looked at me with a weird face. I wonder what that was all about.
I watched as she mentally changed directions, her eyes losing a little light, and picked up all of the parts we had lugged out during the day. Stooping to grab up what she couldn’t get, I followed her in the shop and helped her put the supplies where she wanted them, with easy access for tomorrow.
When everything was where she wanted it, she took a deep breath and turned to me. “Thank you for today. For everything, getting the shop staffed and such. I…obviously I needed help. So, thank you for that.” She blushed. Teagan wanted to do this on her own and admitting she needed help was humbling for her. I just nodded, because of course I would help. I would help her with everything, for the rest of my life, if she let me.
“I’m gonna lock up and head home. It’s late and I’m exhausted and need to get started early tomorrow.” Nodding like she was approving what she said, she turned, expecting me to get my shit and follow her out. I did. But I didn’t head to my car. Instead I stood and waited for her as she locked up and set the alarm.
When she turned around and saw me, her eyes widened. “What are you doing? It’s late. You’ve got a drive. I need you back early. You should be going.”
She was right. I had a long drive home and if I hoped to get any sleep at all I really needed to get going, but I wasn’t comfortable letting her walk home, alone, in the dark.
“I’m just gonna walk you home. Make sure you are safe and then I’ll head home myself, okay? I know Evergreen is like, the safest place in Colorado, but it would make me sleep better if you let me do this, okay?”
She nodded and started walking home.
Fifteen minutes later, when I heard the click of her door, I was determined to make it so the next time I heard that click, I was on the other side of that door.
Chapter Twenty
Teagan
To say I was in a fog for the rest of the week was putting it mildly. I was focused and working fine, but with Brock this close, this often, I felt like I was crawling out of my skin by the time the weekend rolled around.
We worked well together. Phoebe’s engine was fully in and her electrical work was done so she would be out front within a few weeks of the grand opening. Somehow Brock had arranged for a client of his to have a Super Bee he had done out in front of the shop until Phoebe was running. This did not suck. This was actually awesome. And sweet. And messing with my head.
He was so, just, there. All the time. Helping in the background with everyone. Not just me. He was friends with everyone. This was a Brock I almost didn’t recognize. At Sub Zero, he had stuck to himself. Sure, he joked with the guys, as guys will do. But he didn’t “know” them. Now, he asked about the kids and the wives, or how they were doing post- something or other. Stuff I didn’t know. I was the boss and he knew the company better than I did.
The fog I was in was impeding my ability to do anything other than work. Emotions seemed…off. I was so sexually strung up that anything, a slow gust of air over my face, caused my thoughts to divert to Brock’s breath while making love. I was a mess. Something had to give.
He was working so hard to show me the man he was now. How far different he was from the boy I continued to force him to be in my mind. He wasn’t. That boy was firmly gone. It was me that needed to move on now. It was just, was I ready?
After one final look around the shop and one final run through the paperwork, I stood at the front of the shop, staring at my dream. This was it. It was as ready as it would be. Sure, there would be bumps and hiccups in the start-up, but hopefully I had planned for as much as I could.
Before I flipped the lights off and locked the door, I took a moment to bask in the reality that even if the shop tanked; that even if the shop failed so spectacularly I became a cautionary tale in the car world, I had done this myself. I had worked my ass off to make my dream a reality and that felt damn good. My whole body buzzed with the knowledge that I was doing this. I was going to be living my dream.
Well, most of the dream anyway. The man portion of the dream was much more a work in progress than the shop portion. While the shop was basically set, the man was… well, I’m sure he was set too. It’s just me who’s still sitting on the fence.
I needed to get off the fence. I needed to decide whether or not I was going to do something, anything, about this sexual tension or let him go. Because if I had learned anything in the last week it was that this new Brock was a good man. A man who didn’t deserve to be pulled back and forth by my unstable emotions. I knew what I wanted. I wanted him. I just needed to woman the fuck up and take him.
And just like that, everything clicked into place. My heart, already feeling light in the knowledge of the completion of the shop, felt like it would float away now that I had given it the ability to love. Freed it to feel again. And feel it did. I wanted Brock with a passion I hadn’t had before. The love, the feeling’s from before, they were nice. But the love and emotions I felt now, working with the man, watching him in his connections with the people around him, his confidence in his work and relationships now, had deepened what I felt. It had…matured.
I smiled and turned to walk home.
I don’t know why I was shocked to see the man I had just been thinking about waiting for me by the parking lot sign. Leaning on it in that way that made my body light up with need. His smirk said he saw the change in my body and knew what I was thinking.
“Walking me home again, I presume?” I asked, knowing the answer was the same as it had been for the last week.
He just stepped away from the post and nodded, turning to walk in the direction we knew so well we could do it blindfolded by now. Which was a good thing since neither of us was paying attention to where we were walking.
In the dim light I could see how tight his facial features were. The want. The need for me written across his whole body. He was strung tight. If I was hurting for it, he was worse.
When I unlocked the door, I turned to tell him not goodbye this time, but to tell him that I wanted him. That I needed him. He pre-empted my move, tossing the keys from my hand to the dish and walking me backwards towards the bedroom without hitting a single light, hell object, on the way. His focus was entirely on me. That kind of focus, from this kind of man, was fucking heady. It made my head spin and my heart try to beat out of my chest.
When we got to the room and Brock kicked the door shut, I took the time to take a breath. I needed to talk to him before we did this. I needed him to move on like I had. To know I had.
When he advanced on me, I put my hand up, stopping him. His face went confused, afraid almost.
“I’m not stopping this Brock.”
His breath came in a whoosh and his stance loosened as he stepped forward again, making for the hem of my shirt. He ran his fingers back and forth along my back where my pants left my skin open for him.
This time he waited.
“I’m not stopping this. You were right. It is you for me. It’s always been you for me. That silly little boy, had he done things differently, would have had me then, I know this now.” I could see the hurt and shame in the knowledge that the lost time and pain of his actions had caused us.
I reached up and framed his beautiful face with my hands, tracing his jaw line and running my thumb across his gorgeous lips. “It’s us. It will always be us. But, to do this, we both need to let go. Let go of the hurt, the pain, the tears, the time. We’re new now. Stronger, different people than we were before. I know I certainly am. I would’ve never stepped out of my comfort zone had it not been for the actions of our past. It hurt. It was shitty. But it’s past us now. The new, stronger Teagan- she wants this new, amazing, free Brock.
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