Page 6 of Drive Me Wild (Owl Creek #2)

I left shortly after my chat with Buzz. My mind is racing with ideas for the robotics team, and I don’t feel like hanging around with Cole anymore today.

There are not a lot of things that can hurt me, but being doubted by my own kin is one of them.

Buzz taught me everything he knows about fixing and maintaining cars and heavy equipment, and he is the best there is.

There is no reason that my own brother, who grew up in the same shop I did, should have considered giving a maintenance deal to a shop thirty miles away.

It doesn’t make any sense, and I’m not buying his excuse that it was all about the ‘optics.’

Even though he eventually awarded me the five-year contract to service the fire engines and pickup trucks, it doesn’t change the fact that he doubted me.

I park my truck in the alley next to my shop, pull the canvas cover over it to keep the dust off, and then enter through the side door and walk upstairs to my apartment.

It’s a simple two-bedroom place. I sleep in the room where my mom and Buzz slept when we lived here as kids. I used to share the spare room with my two brothers until Cody and I were seven, when we moved to the house next door to where Cole lives now.

The apartment was a cheap summer rental for several years after we moved since the population of Owl Creek swells in the months between the boat festival at the start of summer and the art festival at the end. But I moved in when I graduated high school and started working full-time in the shop.

It’s been a bachelor pad ever since.

My phone chirps an alert, and I scan the screen as I reach into the fridge for a beer.

Sandra.

It takes me a minute to put a face to the name, but it doesn’t really matter which one she is. I’m not interested.

Summertime used to be the highlight of my year from the age of fifteen until…well…now. But this summer was different. This summer, I didn’t bring home any of the hordes of hot tourists and hikers who came to town. I made a promise to myself, and I kept it.

Chasing women used to be my joy, other than fixing cars and racing them. But now all I can think about is her and the way she inspired me to want more in my life than what I’m naturally good at. And I’m still figuring out what to do about it because no one has ever expected me to want more.

Including me.

I text Sandra back because I’m not rude.

Just not interested in meeting up at Fat Joe’s down the road.

That rush I used to get when I could make a woman cum, the control I had over her pleasure, doesn’t drive me to hook up anymore.

The only thing that drives me now is being more than anyone expects.

I tell her I’m off the market and delete her number before cracking open that beer and working on my new project.