Wild Crush

  Working at the auto body made me feel accomplished. Being in the presence of Monika, even if it's just watching her from across the room, calms me in a way that nobody else can.

  Maybe the combination of those things will make me as close to happy as I can get.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  MONIKA

  I walk into Enrique's Auto Body determined to talk to Vic today. He's been hiding out in Isa's apartment while I've been downstairs, not able to concentrate knowing he's so close. Isa's been giving me bookkeeping jobs and has me cleaning the shop, but she hasn't trusted me to work on cars.

  Today was supposed to be the day she'd start training me as a mechanic. The other guy who works here, Bernie, has been fired so many times I can't imagine why he keeps coming back.

  But today Bernie isn't here.

  Isa is leaning under the hood of a car with someone else--a guy. A burst of excitement rushes through me at the prospect of seeing Vic.

  I hold my head up high and say in a confident voice, "I'm ready for my first day of training."

  The guy looks up. It's not Vic. He's got dark hair that falls down his forehead and an air of confidence that reminds me of Vic.

  "I need to talk to Vic first, if that's okay," I ask Isa.

  "It's fine with me, but he's not here," she says.

  "He's not?" Wow. From what Isa told me, he's been holed up in the upstairs apartment since the accident. "Where did he go?"

  "Beats me." Isa gestures to the wall. "If you're ready to work, there's a coverall hangin' over there. Put it on so your clothes don't get dirty."

  "Thanks." I grab the coveralls and step into them. The scent of men's cologne mixed with the familiar smell of a guy is prevalent on the coveralls...Vic's scent. After I zip it up, I look at the embroidered name tag on the front that reads VICTOR.

  It's strange, but I feel empowered wearing them. It's like the minute I put them on, I inherited Vic's confidence. Knowing that I'm taking his place while he doubted me gives me a renewed sense of determination.

  I walk over to Isa and the guy who's helping her work on the car. I'm trying not to think about Vic and his whereabouts, but he's all I can think about. Where would he go?

  "I'm ready," I tell them. "Put me to work."

  Both Isa and the guy look at me. "What do you know about cars?" the guy asks.

  "Not much."

  He raises a brow. "You know how to change oil? Tires?"

  Time to give them the brutal truth. "I know how to pump gas and drive. That's pretty much the extent of my car knowledge. While I don't have any hands-on knowledge, I did watch a video on how to do an oil change. And a tire rotation, although I'm a little fuzzy on the details."

  A chuckle escapes from the guy's mouth. "Isa, you hired a mechanic who doesn't know shit about cars."

  "I'm aware of that. But she's free labor for now, so she'll work out just fine." Isa pats the guy's shoulder. "You can teach her stuff, Alex. I have faith in you. Hell, you taught me everythin' I know about cars."

  I nod. "I'm a fast learner," I add excitedly. "And my dad taught me how to drive stick shift."

  He doesn't seem impressed. "I guess I can teach her how to do an oil change, drain transmission fluid, and change brake pads."

  "You're the best," Isa says. "I forgot to introduce you. Monika, this is my friend Alex. We grew up together. He's a genius when it comes to fixin' cars." She looks down and shifts her feet. "Truth is, this place would've gone under a long time ago if it weren't for him and his wife."

  Alex shakes his head as if he doesn't deserve any credit. "No es gran cosa. Bernie has been helpin' you out, but you're just too stubborn to give him credit."

  "Don't say it's not a big deal," Isa insists. "It is. And don't mention the B word again. When I talked to Brittany this morning about Vic and all the problems I'm having at the shop, I didn't expect her to send you here." She pretends to pick at a piece of lint on her coveralls. "You have your graduate work at the university to do, Alex. You and Brit don't need to rescue me. You've got your kid to worry about, and a pregnant wife."

  I feel sorry for Isa. She looks and acts tough, but she just showed a glimpse that she's vulnerable and sad. I would hug her like Ashtyn and I hug when we're sad, but I'd be afraid that Isa would slug me if I did that. She intimidates me, but I kinda like that because she doesn't treat me like I'm some kind of fragile diva.

  "It's cool," Alex says. "Brit and I want to help, so go work and I'll teach Monika some stuff so she's not standin' around doin' nada."

  Isa leaves me in Alex's care after announcing that she has to run an errand. I'm jittery, because it's obvious I'm not the least bit qualified to fix cars. It's comforting that Alex is going to help me, though. He doesn't look put out or upset about it, either.

  I look at the name tag on my chest once again--Victor. He did everything in his power to discourage Isa from hiring me. Trey didn't have faith in me getting my hands dirty, either. I'm not going to let that bother me, though. Their lack of confidence in me isn't stopping me from proving to everyone, including myself, that I can do this.

  "Follow me," Alex says, leading me to a huge toolbox in the middle of the shop. "I need to teach you the basics of an oil change."

  As he leads me under one of the cars, I put a hand over my head as if that'll help if the car drops. "What if the car falls off and crashes onto us?" I ask.

  "It won't," he says. "The lift is solid."

  I glance at the lift holding up the car. I'm not convinced it's safe, but Alex acts like it's no big deal if he gets smashed by a falling three-thousand-pound hunk of metal.

  "Here," he says, shining a flashlight under the car. "You have to find the drain plug. See it right there?"

  I put my hand on my back to support it so I can twist my body without too much stress on my spine. "No."

  He groans the slightest bit. "Give me your hand," he says, then places my fingers on the plug. "Feel that?" he asks.

  "Yeah. I feel it."

  "All right, Fuentes. I'll take it from here," echoes a familiar voice from the front of the shop. It's Vic, wearing a scowl on his face. "If anyone's gonna show Monika what to do around here, it's gonna be me from now on."

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  VICTOR

  When I walk in the shop, this dude named Alex Fuentes who Isa went to high school with was standing under a Buick showing Monika how to do an oil change. It wouldn't be so bad if Fuentes looked like an ogre or that nerd Bernie, but he doesn't.

  Not by a long shot.

  The pendejo resembles a model or actor, and he's showing off his ripped muscles in a black tank. When his hand touches Monika's as he instructs her how to change the oil on the car, my hands ball into fists.

  I haven't seen Alex in forever. His cousin was Enrique. Supposedly Fuentes is at Northwestern studying medicine or something like that. He used to come by more often, but that was before I started working for Isa.

  "Oh, really?" Alex says. "'Cause from what Isa told me, you've been upstairs sittin' on your ass. I'm here to help Isa because you've slacked off," Alex grumbles as he leaves Monika under the car to fetch an oil collector.

  "Fuck you, man," I say. He has no clue what the hell I've been through. I'm not about to be judged by him, or anyone else.

  Alex stops in his tracks and turns to me. "What'd you say?"

  "Fuck. You."

  "Vic, stop acting like a jerk," Monika chimes in. "He's right."

  "It's cool, Monika." Alex seems amused that someone would challenge a guy like him. "Listen, amigo," he says, stepping closer. "You can either help or get the hell out of here. Which is it?"

  He holds out the oil collector as we stare each other down.

  "Victor," Monika says in a warning tone.

  I keep my eyes on Fuentes, but Monika's voice echoes in my ear. My instinct is to throw the first punch, especially with a guy like Fuentes who won't back down. My veins are fired up and my blood is pumping hard. I don't give a shit if he's
tough. I'm not afraid. We can battle it out right here.

  Trey isn't here to protect Monika from everyone and everything--so I convince myself that as of now it's my job.

  I can't be her protector when she's pissed at me, so I back down.

  My eyes focus on the oil collector still in Alex's hand.

  I grab it away from him and roll my eyes when he gives me a satisfied nod.

  "You remind me of myself when I was a punk," Fuentes says. "All piss and vinegar. Wait until a girl comes along who'll bring you to your knees. Dudes like you aren't immune, guey."

  "Yeah, whatever," I mumble, glad he has a wife and kid to keep him occupied so he's not hanging around here all day and night. "I'm nothin' like you."

  "You have no clue."

  I step under the car next to Monika, who's wearing my coveralls. They're too big on her, but damn, she could be the centerfold for any magazine.

  "I don't want you to teach me." She points to Alex. "I'd rather have him do it."

  All I want to do now is wipe Fuentes's cocky grin off his face.

  "Why?" I ask, completely annoyed.

  "Because he's nice."

  "I'm nice," I tell her.

  "No, you're not." She puts a hand on her hip. "You've completely abandoned me. You want to know what I'm thinking?"

  "Nope."

  "Well, I'll tell you." She comes up and sticks a finger in my chest. "I think that you've disappeared into some dark place so you can push people away and forget about life and reality. Guess what, Vic. I'm hurting too. I'm dealing with Trey's death just as much as you are, so if you're ready to join the real world and talk to me, then fine. But if you want to continue living in darkness and isolation, then get out of my face."

  Alex laughs. "Andas bien, Vic? She's got some big ol' huevos. You better watch out."

  "Mind your own business, Fuentes. I got this."

  He laughs. "For sure, man. I'll be over there workin' on another car. If you run into trouble with your chica, let me know."

  I don't tell him she was my best friend's chica, not mine.

  When he's out of hearing range, I turn to Monika. Her hair is in her face, and she's got grease all over her fingers from the oil filter. She looks like a princess who fell into a mud pit. "Here," I say, handing her a towel. "Your hands are dirty."

  She reluctantly takes the towel.

  "Are you gonna listen to me while I show you what to do?" I ask.

  She tilts her chin up. "Maybe."

  "You've developed an attitude problem, Monika."

  "Maybe I found out things that have made me bitter."

  "Like what?"

  She doesn't say anything. I want to share everything with her, to tell her how horrible I feel about what I did to Trey. But I can't.

  I show her how to do the oil change. She follows my directions like a robot. We finish three cars before I stand back and watch her do an oil change on her own, noting that she holds her back to steady herself.

  I tell her to take breaks, but she refuses.

  We don't talk about the one thing that's probably on both of our minds--what happened on that field when Trey died. I sure as hell don't want to talk about what happened. I'd cut off both my legs if it would bring my best friend back. Hell, I'd give my life in exchange for Trey's.

  I try not to get too close to Monika, because the truth is that I still feel a connection to her. It fucking sucks. I'm here to teach her how to be a mechanic and protect her, nothing more.

  "I'm outta here," Alex says after a while. He holds up his phone. "The wife keeps texting me, asking when I'm comin' home. Tell Isa that I had to head out, but the Ford is done and the Monte Carlo needed a new belt so I put it on."

  Monika waves to him with a bright, friendly smile on her heart-shaped face. "It was nice meeting you, Alex."

  He gives her a nod. "Nice meetin' you too. See ya later, Vic." He walks out, leaving us alone in the garage.

  So now it's just Monika and I in the shop. Alone.

  I clear my throat and walk over to the toolbox. She walks up behind me. I can feel her presence because I'm so aware of her.

  "Can I say something without you getting mad?" she asks.

  "Shoot."

  "Promise you won't be mad?"

  "Sure. Whatever."

  "Just come back to school, Vic," she says. "If you won't do it for yourself, or for Trey, do it for the football team. We were supposed to make it to state this year. We've lost the past two games. If you were there..." Her voice trails off.

  "What?" I say, throwing a towel on the floor. "If I was there, we'd be winning games? Trey was the one who ran the fastest. Trey was the one who made touchdowns. I just fuckin' tackle people, that's all. I'm a stupid robot. Anyone can take my place."

  "That's not true. I've watched you. You read the quarterback, Vic. It's like you have an instinct on what the opposing team is going to do." She picks up the towel I just threw down. "And despite what you might think, you're not just a defensive tackle. Everyone looks up to you, because you play with the confidence that you can win every game. They're lost without you... they're losing without you."

  "You don't realize that I'm just a dumb, worthless jock."

  I start walking away. I need to get out of here, to go back upstairs where I can isolate myself. I told myself I wanted to help her, to make her into the mechanic she wanted to be. To protect her.

  But I was lying to myself.

  I offered to help her because I want to be close to her. I want to be near her every chance I get, not because of Trey or anyone else.

  She's here for a different reason.

  She's here to accomplish things that Trey told her she couldn't do, what we all told her she couldn't do. She's here to convince me to go back to Fremont. She's not here because she wants to be close to me.

  I'm such an idiot.

  "Where are you going?" she calls out.

  I need to keep my distance from her. If I don't, I'll be tempted to tell her how I feel. I'll be tempted to pull her into my arms. "I need some air."

  "Stop trying to escape." She tries to look me in the eyes. "You're not worthless, Vic. You have feelings. Express them instead of keeping them inside."

  "I can't." Because expressing my feelings means betraying Trey. Instead, I tell her, "I have no feelings."

  She's staring boldly up at me now. I expect her to convince me that I'm better off expressing myself or going back to school. I expect her to tell me how I need to help the football team. I expect her to get angry that I'm not living up to anyone's expectations, including hers.

  But she doesn't.

  Instead, she gets on her toes and grabs my hair. "You do have feelings," she mumbles before urging my head down while she brushes her soft lips against mine. "And I'm going to prove it to you."

  Dios mio.

  I've kissed Monika a thousand times in my thoughts. I never imagined it would be like this... her soft wet lips on mine, her hands tangled in my hair, and her sweet breath mingling with mine.

  My body is reacting to this, to her. She's always had a spell on me, but I knew I could never have her because of my loyalty to Trey.

  Oh, hell. This is not happening.

  But it is.

  And I don't want to stop it.

  All my worries and thoughts disappear. The only thing I'm focused on is the here and now. It's been so long since I've felt this kind of inner peace, it's a shock to my system.

  She moans as her mouth opens and her tongue reaches out for mine. I can feel the hot electricity running through my melting veins when our tongues meet and slide against each other in a slow and sensual dance. She tastes so damn good I could do this for hours--or forever.

  This must be what heaven tastes like.

  I reach up and cradle her head in my palm, caressing the back of her neck with my thumb as we go at it like we've been starved for kisses our entire lives. It's wet and slippery and sexual as hell. This is what my fantasies are made of. Just kissing
her makes my body react uncontrollably.

  "Oh, Vic," she groans, her lips rubbing back and forth against mine. "I've been so lost. I need you."

  Shit.

  She needs me?

  Reality just slapped me in the face.

  This is Monika, the girl who's off-limits for so many reasons. I was responsible for my best friend's death, and now I'm kissing his girlfriend. I'm breaking every rule, every code, every boundary that was ever created or thought of. I might want her more than I want to breathe, but that doesn't matter.

  It takes superhuman effort to lean away from her and break the connection.

  "What are we doin'?" I ask, my voice completely raw with desire. "This is so fucked up. You're Trey's girlfriend, Monika. I killed him, and now I'm kissing his girl." I swipe my lips with the back of my hand. "This is a mistake. It never happened."

  She looks up at me with those bright green eyes as she steps back. Those eyes quickly turn from passion to embarrassment.

  "Okay," she says, nodding. "It never happened."

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  MONIKA

  I want to tell Vic the truth, that he wasn't responsible for Trey's death.

  I want to tell him that Trey and I broke up.

  I want to tell him that Trey was doing drugs and cheating on me for a long time.

  Trey's body was compromised because of the drugs he was taking. Knowing the reality of what actually happened to Trey is weighing heavily on me.

  You're Trey's girlfriend, Vic just said.

  But I wasn't his girlfriend.

  I don't want to taint Trey's reputation, but holding the truth inside is killing me.

  Vic is the only person I want to connect with. If he knew the truth...

  But he doesn't.

  And I couldn't tell him.

  Instead, I kissed him and told him I needed him. I'm such an idiot.

  I'm not going to pretend I'm not crushed that Vic wants to forget the kiss ever happened. The way he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, as if I had infected him with some sort of contagious disease, made we wince.

  The truth is, I do need him.

  When he turns his back to me and leaves the body shop, I want to yell for him to come back. Instead, I stand frozen in place.

  I brush my fingers over my lips, still tingling from our kiss. My body feels more alive than I've felt in months, and I have no pain. My adrenaline must be running at an all-time high, because I don't even notice that consistent dull ache in my back and wrists.