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“There’s a jet engine where my carb used to be.”

The sun warms the back of my neck, but it’s my body that feels hot. Like I could come out of my skin.

“Technically it’s a supercharger. I also tuned a few things while I was in there. It’s not a big deal.”

He says it casually. As if it wasn’t a full day of work for a capable mechanic with the right tools.

Not to mention thousands of dollars.

My pulse is pounding in my veins. I brace a hand on the car, unsteady.

I might’ve had the upgrade on my wish list but didn’t have any delusions of actually being able to get one. Today or any other day.

But while I was eating tiny sandwiches with Theo, Jameson broke into the Fastback and torqued it with staggering skill and precision.

“Why?” I demand, struggling to find words.

I’m not letting him black cat his way out of this. I need a reason that fits with the box I’ve assigned Jameson in my mind.

The car is secretly a bomb that’s about to go off. Or he’s punking me and I’m being filmed as a prank for the drivers to watch. Or he’s proving a point, trying to make me realize I’ll never be as good as he is.

When he finally answers, I wish I hadn’t asked.

“It’s like you said.” His voice sounds different than I’ve ever heard it. “Any asshole can break things.”

I wonder if he realizes his fingerprints are now on my car in a way that goes deeper than his name etched in my shifter ever did.

Because I can’t think of anything else.

17

Shay

What Jameson did for me is an ache in my chest all weekend, a flame that won’t go out.

I need to respond. Not with words, but with action.

It’s Saturday night when I get the idea. I spend all day Sunday working out the details, a process derailed only when I answer the doorbell to find a delivery guy with an armful of flowers from Theo.

I bring them inside, sniffing carefully.

“Who are those from?” Dad asks.

“A friend.” I shove the card in the pocket of my jeans.

“Where did you meet this friend? The Junction?”

“Dad…”

He holds up his palms. “I just want you to have a social life. You’ll never meet anyone under a car.”

When I text Theo to thank him for the gorgeous flowers, he asks if we can hang out today.

I bite my lip.

Shay: Love to, but I’m working on a project. It’s kind of urgent. Catch you at school?

I dig through our kitchen cabinets—no vase in sight but I settle for a pitcher and fill it with water, sticking the flowers inside and taking them back to my room. They fill the space with a soft scent as my gaze returns to my computer, and my task.