Burnout (Jack 'Em Up Book 0) Read Free Page A

approachable. Sexy.
    He must’ve sensed my presence, because he stopped singing and slowly pivoted to face me.
    My face blazed with embarrassment. I probably looked like an idiot standing there, no idea what was involved in car repair, much less how to deal with someone as overpowering as Blake Travers. But I was bound and determined to try.
    His eyes narrowed as he took me in. “What’re you doing here?”
    I swallowed. “I came to help you.” My eyes darted to the car with its hood wide open. “Since you won’t take any money.”
    He seemed taken aback. And frustrated. “No. Thanks.” He spun away and began rubbing with vigor on the same piece he’d been working on.
    I stayed silent for several moments, not sure why he was so against having anything to do with me. I hadn’t done anything to him that I knew of.
    “Why?” I finally asked, my voice quiet.
    He sighed, but didn’t face me. “Because. I don’t need you.”
    I walked over to him and stared him down until he looked me in the eye. “Everyone needs someone, Blake.”
    His deep, dark eyes studied mine, showing a glimpse into some deeper emotion I didn’t recognize. His full mouth opened to say something, then he pressed it closed as he squeezed his eyes shut. “You don’t have to.” His voice was nearly a whisper.
    Unable to resist, I touched his forearm, making his gaze fly open. “It’s the least I can do.”
    He said nothing. He seemed to be thinking it through . . . maybe battling his pride, I had no idea. But I’d decided I needed to do this. For myself as much as him. “Please,” I said.
    He faced me again, indecision written on every feature.
    I smiled and squeezed his arm tighter. “Though I can’t promise I’ll know a bumper from a . . . well, I’ll do my best to be helpful.”
    Still silent, his face softened a little. I took that as a victory and spun to face his car. “So, tell me, what is that thingy called that I hit?”

Blake
     
    W as she freakin’ insane? Strolling in here looking as tasty as a hot fudge sundae in her tight jeans and worn out sweatshirt, practically begging to help. Wonders never ceased.
    I watched as Delilah slowly sauntered over to my car and crouched down to inspect the dent she’d made. Her ass was nicely showcased in that position and I couldn’t look away. Hey, I’m just a guy.
    She pivoted and caught me looking, a cute blush staining her cheeks. “So, where’s your teacher?”
    I nodded over my shoulder toward the main building. “In his office working on something.”
    “Oh.” She glanced at the car again. “How can I help?”
    “I’m not sure, honestly. I couldn’t get the dent out cleanly, so I decided to just replace it. I managed to find a replacement at the junk yard, but it needs to be sanded and repainted. I haven’t decided what to do about the bumper. On my own, it’ll probably take a few weeks to fix it all.”
    Rising, she smiled softly. “Well, you’re not on your own. Are you?”
    I shuffled, hating how this girl was suddenly making me uncomfortable. “I guess not.”
    “So, you’ll let me help? Or try to?” She laughed at herself and I noticed the dusting of freckles across her nose for the first time. She was adorable all natural and approachable like this.
    I shrugged. “Sure. If you really want to.”
    “I do.” She glanced back at the car. “So . . . what is that thing?”
    I huffed out a loud laugh. “It’s the quarter panel.”
    Her smiling eyes met mine again. “And it’s bad, huh?”
    My gaze darted away. “Yeah. Kinda.”
    “I’m so sorry, Blake.”
    I heaved in a breath at the way my name rolled off her tongue. “Well, it’s done, so don’t worry about it.”
    For just a second, it seemed our hearts spoke to each other through our eyes. Hers filled with something that looked like longing and sadness, mine . . . I had no idea as I tried my best to shield myself. “Okay,” she finally said, a bit breathlessly. “Show me what to