Page 60 of Detour

No. Thanks.

I manage to stay busy enough that I barely notice when Coty’s Camaro rolls out of the bay and into my towel covered hands.

Just as I make my way around the hood, I hear Joe call my name and glance up.

“I need you to stay late.”

Shit.

“Tonight?”

He nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. He rocks back onto his heels, exposing his belly in the process. I bite back a fair amount of vomit.

“The windows need done. Nobody cleaned them last night so they’re filthy. Expect to be here a while.”

Double shit.

My eyes drop to the two sets locked on my every move. Coty’s eyebrows snap together while Marc is sporting his usual scowl.

I dry the rest of the car in a daze, my heartbeat loud enough for them to hear through the windshield. When I open Marc’s door to clean the jamb, I get an idea.

I wait until I open Coty’s to put it into action.

“Hey, neighbor girl,” he teases with a wink.

I peek back to find the bay empty.

“Hey, yourself. What are you guys doing here?”

They share a look before Coty answers vaguely, “Work.”

Okay, then.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Hopefully hanging with my hot neighbor.”

Marc groans from the passenger side, making Coty laugh.

“I didn’t realize Gary was up for visitors but I hope you two have fun.”

Both guys break into laughter and I smile despite the dread simmering below the surface.

“Why? What’s up?”

My gaze flits around the car, the speed of a hummingbird. “I was wondering if you could pick me up?”

Coty grows serious, immediately scanning my face. “Is something wrong with your Jeep?”

I look down to my shoe splattered in dirty water. That part was hard, but this part feels wrong. “I don’t know. It sounded weird on the way here and I wanted to go to the library after work,” Coty’s eyes narrow a fraction and I almost lose my nerve altogether, nevertheless I persevere, “but my boss needs me to stay after-”

“Done.” I don’t even get to finish when Coty cuts me off. “Consider it all done. We’ll take care of the Jeep. I’ll be here when you get off. You can use my laptop for,” his hesitation nearly ends me, “whatever you need it for. Anything else, we’ll figure out later.”

He glances over to Marc, jerking his chin. Wordlessly, Marc gets out and walks around the back with his hand out. “Keys?”

“He’ll take it to the shop now and we’ll look at it there.”

My face outright ignites as I fumble for words. I didn’t expect them to take control like this. I should’ve, but I didn’t. The web I’ve spun can’t be removed without revealing everything in the process. And honestly, that option sounds worse than asking for help—even if it did feel like exfoliating my tongue with sea salt.