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“Call that number. Someone will pick up your car and take it to Rush Automotives. Milo will take care of it and send me the bill when it’s done.”
The audacity of this guy, coming in here and ordering me around after giving some half-assed, half-hearted apology.
“I don’t want your fucking charity,” I hiss, only loud enough for him to hear.
“Again, with the language—”
“Call me Princess and I’ll break your damn fingers,” I say, staring pointedly at his hand, still lying flat across the counter in front of me.
His eyes flare momentarily, and a sardonic smile pulls at his lips. He releases the card and slides his hand back across the counter.
“Call or don’t, I did what I came here to do,” Bodhi says before turning and marching back toward the front door… where Sander is walking through.
Bodhi stops and looks at Sander before looking back at me over his shoulder, an ‘I told you so’ look plastered on his smug face. Before Sander can even register what happened, Bodhi is out the door and heading toward his car, a completely different one from last night.
Must be nice.
“Uh, was that the same guy from the accident last night?” Sander asks, hooking his thumb over his shoulder as he approaches.
“Yes,” I say, continuing to glare through the front door as Bodhi drives away.
“What did he want?” I hear the tone change in Sander’s voice and want to roll my eyes again.
What is it with these damn men?
I pick up the card and flip it around to show San. “He offered to pay for the damages to the Camaro.”
“Why?” he asks, brows creasing with disbelief.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I say, rolling my eyes. This is proving to be the most annoying twenty-four hours of my life, I swear.
“What did you say?” Sander asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
Okay, seriously? What the hell?
“No,” I tell him, not sure why it matters one way or the other.
“Why?”
“Because, San,” I throw my hands up at my sides, fed up. “I don’t want to deal with that prick any more than necessary. And I’m not some charity case. I’ll handle it.”
“Hey,” his voice softens, and he leans over the counter until he’s eye level with me. “No one is saying you’re a charity case, K. But the asshole is responsible for the damages. Why not let him pay for it? Then you’ll get the Camaro back and not have to stress about work.”
I cut him a grin. “Already tired of offering me rides?” I say, jokingly. The blush that stains his cheeks though has me wishing I had chosen my words more carefully.
“No, I’m not tired of that. I’m here for whatever you need.”
Chills ghost over my arms, and I’d love to say that it was just me being grossed out over my best friend obviously hitting on me, but sometimes my heart doesn’t stop to notice those kinds of things.
“Well, hello there, Officer. How are you doing on this fine day?” Teagan drawls from behind me, thankfully interrupting the moment before it progressed.
Sander stands, shooting her a wide grin.
“I’m doing all right, Teagan. How about yourself?”
“Well, I’d rather be out there than in here,” she nods her head toward the front window, smiling brightly, “but I guess I can’t complain too much.”
“That’s good to hear,” Sander says, ever the gentlemen.
