“Honey, don’t be jealous over nothing. Kelsey just sees me as her brother. She just moved to San Antonio and doesn’t know anyone else, so she relies on me out of habit. Give her time, and it’ll pass.”
“You know—her parents took me in for fourteen years. I owe them.”
If this were before, I might’ve even felt a little happy that the usually quiet, distant Tucker was explaining himself, worried I’d be upset.
But whether he was explaining out of guilt or something else entirely, I couldn’t tell anymore.
I tugged at the corner of my mouth, said nothing, pushed the door open, and got out of his car.
Standing by the roadside, I waved down a cab and gave my home address.
As the car slowly pulled away, memories flooded back—to the first time I met Tucker years ago at my family’s auto shop.
That day, his hands were covered in grease, his head lowered as he worked on a car, barely speaking to anyone.
But even among all the mechanics, that sharp, striking face of his still stood out—handsome to the point it almost hurt to look at.
I almost fell for him at first glance.
Later, it was me who begged my dad to pull him out of the repair shop and onto the racetrack.