Page 76 of Meant to Be

He places a hand over his heart. “Ouch.”

“Don’t act like you have a heart,” I mutter. A groan leaves me as I get to my feet. “Okay. Pay up and piss off.”

Harley chuckles, stepping out of the car. He’s in all-black, with a backwards cap planted on his head. Fuck me. He looks edible.

“I was thinking of tipping you, but with this attitude, I think not.”

My eyes narrow. He curls his lips into a smirk.

He digs in his pocket and withdraws a fifty-dollar note. I stare at his outstretched hand.

“That’s a lot of money for a car wash.”

“Can you put a price on charity?” he asks sweetly.

“Suppose not.” I take the cash from him and stick it into the container beside me. I lock it and slip the key into my back pocket. “You can go for a walk. It’ll be done when you get back.”

“No thanks.” He pulls out a camping chair from the back of his car and places it under the tree I was just lying under. He collapses onto it, leaning back, placing his hands on the back of his head. “I’m going to enjoy the view.”

“You’re a total prick.”

He winks at me, and I turn my back to him. My skin flushes under his gaze, but I do my best to ignore him. I spray over the truck with water before I fill the bucket up with soap.

Soon enough, I get lost in my thoughts as I drag the sponge across his truck. It’s been lifted so much that I struggle to reach the roof. I boost myself up on the step but still can’t quite reach all the surfaces.

Hands touch my waist as Harley steps onto the truck with me. Heat flares under my skin, and I swallow, watching his muscled, tattooed arms lean over. His fingers sink between mine and extend my arm further, reaching the spot I was missing.

“I’ve got it,” I mutter.

His fingers at my side tighten, scrunching the fabric so tight that it lifts, letting our skin connect. His breath blows past my ear, and I clench my thighs together.

“I’ve got it!” I snap and twist my head, facing him. Big mistake. He’s close. Too close. I stare into his eyes, framed by pretty long lashes. My gaze drops to his lips.

My breathing is heavy. His hand is still on mine, his other still touching my side. His thumb slides over the skin there, and my body flushes at the feel of it. Licking my lips, I watch as he takes the movement in.

“Get off me,” I whisper, not moving my eyes from his lips.

“Your mouth is saying one thing and your body another.”

His hand tightens. I can’t breathe. Stupid hormones.

“If you keep looking at me like this, I’m going to put you in the backseat of my car,” he whispers.

“What would you do to me?” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

A deep groan emits from his throat. “Very bad things.”

He leans in. So close our noses brush. I shove off the truck and stumble, almost falling over. He blows out a breath and steps down, clenching his jaw.

“I had it. I didn’t need your help.”

His jaw is ticking furiously as we stare at each other.

“Bitch.”

“Asshole.”

His eyes narrow before he steps back, far enough from me that I can finally breathe. He turns and stalks away.