Page 2 of Blood Ties

I tug on May’s arm, tearing her attention away from the men at the pool table.

“Bathroom?” I ask, and she nods. We follow a neon red sign to the single-stall room, which is tiny and covered in graffiti but surprisingly clean otherwise.

The two of us take turns using the toilet and freshening up as best as we can with water, paper towels, and the deodorant I brought.

She pulls out some makeup to retouch, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You really planning on getting your flirt on in a place like this?” I tease over her shoulder as she reapplies her red lipstick.

“If it helps get our car fixed, why not?” she shoots back. “Anyway, some of those trucker guys are kind of cute.” She pushes her tits together and winks at me, and I grin, shaking my head.

I study our reflections as she finishes up.

May always looks perfect, with her long blonde hair, big brown eyes, and effortless beauty.

I look extra sharp and prickly in juxtaposition to her.

My frame is thin and angular next to her curves, my brown bob and pale features severe compared to her warm tan and soft waves.

My resting bitch face is especially bitchy after the long walk, but she’s all honey and softness.

Yet I know all of that makes us a perfect duo. When she whirls around to beam at me and declares herself ‘ready to mingle,’ I crack a smile and prepare myself to babysit her drinks all night.

As we walk out, Felix has the bartender laughing at some story, and Caleb is sitting on a stool chugging water. Two glasses are waiting for me and May, and as soon as we’re finished gratefully drinking them down, a pitcher of beer replaces them on the counter.

“On the house,” the bartender says with a nod. “Already told your friend here, but the mechanic’s on his way. Mr. Duvall will get y’all kids fixed right up, don’t you worry.”

“Thank you, sir!” May gushes, pouring a tall glass of beer for herself and another for me.

Maybe it’s the free beer, or the surprising warmth of the bartender, or the fact that I’m drinking while severely dehydrated, but soon my tension melts away.

Soon enough May is giggling while a trucker teaches her how to line-dance, and Caleb is showing off his talent for pool, and Felix is talking cars with a group of men all nodding along with very serious faces.

I sit quietly at the end of the bar, nursing a beer and enjoying the atmosphere.

Then the door opens behind me, and a cool breeze drifts across the back of my neck. I turn to look over my shoulder, and lock eyes with a man walking into the bar.

Something in his dark gaze sends a shiver all the way through me.

I hold his eyes for a couple of seconds, studying him.

He’s maybe a handful of years older than me, somewhere in his late twenties, and at least six foot two.

And he’s handsome, no doubt — well-carved features accentuated by a hint of scruff and a scar that slices across one sharp cheekbone.

His thick, dark hair is pushed back from his forehead and curls around his ears in a tousled but effortlessly attractive way.

It’s almost criminal how good a plain black t-shirt looks when it’s stretched across those broad shoulder.

The other men at the bar step aside to let him pass without seeming to realize that they’re doing it.

But that twist in my stomach — is it butterflies or fear?

Discomfited, I break away from his gaze, turn back to the bar, and finish my drink.

I drum my fingers on the sweating glass and glance around at my friends again.

They’re all deep in their respective conversations, holding court for the locals.

Easy chatter, easy laughter. But suddenly all I can see is how much we don’t belong.

I check my phone, but it’s the same as every time I checked it before. No service.

Nobody knows where we are right now.

My stomach drops. And when someone clears their throat right behind me, I jump in my seat.

I already know who I’m going to see when I look up. It’s the man I noticed walk in, towering over me with his arms folded over his chest and his dark eyes tunneling into mine.

“You must be one of those kids who broke down on the highway.” His voice is low and smooth, a hint of a Texan drawl dragging out his vowels. Another shiver slides down my spine, a slow drip like molasses, and I can’t deny this one is due to attraction.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, looking up at him through my eyelashes. “That obvious?”

His lips curl up at the edges. It draws my eyes again to the scar on his cheek, which lends a dangerous edge to his pretty boy face.

“That you’re one of the few people at this bar I don’t see at least once a week?

Yeah. It’s obvious.” His dark eyes slide over me, gaze so heavy I can nearly feel it. “‘Specially you. I’d remember you.”

Heat rises to my face. I’m no ugly duckling, but May’s the one who usually attracts men’s gazes when we go out. “Is that so?” I ask, trying to play it cool.

“It certainly is.” He holds my gaze for a moment longer before looking around. “Can’t imagine a girl like you owning a car that ugly, though...”

“Right.” I swallow. Focus . I’m supposed to be thinking about getting out of here, not flirting with a local.

We need to get on the road as soon as possible.

I wave at Felix across the room, and he ambles over, jutting out a hand.

Felix is a big guy, but he looks small next to this stranger.

And softer, somehow, too; his big blue eyes and floppy brown hair make him look like a golden retriever beside a rottweiler.

“Hey, man, I’m Felix. You must be the mechanic we’re waiting on?”

“Knox Duvall.” The handsome local gives his hand a firm shake. “Technically,” he nods toward the bartender, “John was looking for my ol’ man, but he’s out of town, so I’m the next best thing. I’m betting I can get you folks on your way tonight.”

“That’d be much appreciated, Knox.” Felix claps him on the shoulder, the kind of overly-familiar gesture he tends to do when he’s drunk. For a moment, there’s a flash of tension across Knox’s face — but when Felix pulls back again, it’s gone so quickly I’m not sure if I imagined it.

“Sure, sure,” Knox says. “I can give you a ride over to the car and take a look right now.”

“Thanks, that’s—”

“I’ll come too,” I say. Both men look at me like they forgot I was here, and I flash a smile. “I mean... Maybe all of us should go? Might be easier since there’s no cell service to keep in touch?”

“I mean, if you can fit all four of us and a suitcase in your car...” Felix says.

Knox shrugs. “If you’re alright with squeezing into the tow truck, I don’t see why not.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Felix says. “Thanks, man. Let me just round up the other two...” He glances at May, who is half in the lap of her trucker beau.

“Y’all can meet me out in the parking lot,” Knox says, and heads out without waiting for a response.

Felix tips generously on our free beer while I pry May away from the truckers and extract Caleb from an argument about pool. But before we head outside, Felix halts me with a touch to my arm.

“Everything alright?” he asks. “You seem antsy.”

I chew my bottom lip as I think back to that flash of anxiety when I first saw Knox.

The weird knee-jerk reaction deep in my body.

But when I think about trying to explain that to Felix, I feel crazy.

I’m sure it’s nothing. Just my brain being odd in response to the rush of attraction, probably.

“Just been a long day,” I say. “I’m eager to get on the road again. ”

He smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders. “Right there with you, Ry.”

I relax against him as we walk out to the parking lot together.

He smells warm and familiar, surprisingly good despite everything we’ve been through today.

Sometimes, in moments like this, I wonder why Felix and I never hooked up.

He’s a good-looking guy, with a classically handsome face and those sweet eyes.

I can feel him watching me sometimes, and May has not-so-subtly tried to push us together a couple of times.

I always tell myself it’d be too messy. It’d ruin the friend group, make things awkward since we’re all talking about renting a house together next year.

But I know the truth: he’s too nice for me.

I never go for nice guys. I always chase down broken ones, following some deep-seated urge to fix them. And in the end, I always get hurt.

As I glance up and see Knox leaning against the hood of his truck, lighting a cigarette with a big, calloused hand cupped around the flame, I feel that twist in my stomach again.

He’s not exactly my type either, too hard and jagged around the edges, but.

.. I bet he’d give me exactly what I crave in bed.

Doesn’t matter, though. I am not going to fuck this guy, no matter how darkly good looking he is. We’re going to get out of here, the sooner the better. I make a point of burrowing closer against Felix and pretending I don’t see Knox watching us.

He wasn’t kidding about the truck being a tight squeeze.

The back of the vehicle is occupied by the towing mechanism, so we’re forced to cram into three seats in the cabin.

Knox sits in a wide sprawl in the driver’s seat.

I end up sitting on Felix’s lap beside him, with May and Caleb in a similar situation pressed against the taped-up window.

The truck smells like cigarettes and leather and gasoline, which should not be as enticing as it is.

“Comfy?” Felix asks, wrapping an arm around my waist to make up for the lack of a seatbelt.

“Perfectly,” I say, smiling over my shoulder at him.

“Maybe you should be the one on top, string-bean,” May mutters, shifting to make herself comfortable on Caleb’s lanky legs. He rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are flushed as he fidgets.