Chapter 9

Elle

“Elle?” Luke said, his voice unsure, as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.

He arched an eyebrow. “I work here. What are you doing here?”

Before I could answer, the older man—the one who had greeted me earlier—stepped back into the room. “Luke, this is Elle Sinclair,” he said, gesturing toward me with a smile. “She’s the one with the car her dad called about.”

My jaw dropped as realization hit me. “Wait… he’s your dad?”

Luke scratched the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah. That’s my dad.”

The man—Mr. O’Connor, I assumed—chuckled. “That’s my boy. He’ll take a look at your car and get it sorted out. You’re in good hands.”

I stared at Luke, my mind reeling. Of all the repair shops in town, I had somehow ended up at the one owned by Luke’s family. And now, he was going to be the one working on my car. Just my luck.

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, glancing down at the paperwork like it might somehow help me escape this situation.

Luke cleared his throat, stepping closer. “You could’ve mentioned it was your car I towed Saturday night.”

I looked up sharply. “How was I supposed to know you worked here?”

“Fair point,” he said with a shrug, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.

Mr. O’Connor seemed oblivious to the tension, or maybe he just found it amusing. “Luke, why don’t you get started on Elle’s car? She said it’s been acting up since Saturday. Might need a full inspection.”

Luke nodded, grabbing the keys from the counter. “I’ll take care of it.”

As he headed outside, I couldn’t help but watch him go. There was something about the way he carried himself—calm and confident, like he knew exactly what he was doing. It was… annoying. Definitely annoying.

“You’re lucky he’s working on your car,” Mr. O’Connor said, breaking into my thoughts. “Luke’s one of the best mechanics around. Learned everything he knows right here in the shop.”

I forced a polite smile. “That’s… good to know.”

He chuckled again, giving me a wink before disappearing into the back office.

Left alone in the waiting room, I slumped into the chair, my head spinning. Of all the places my dad could’ve called, why did it have to be here? And how was I supposed to survive this awkward encounter without making a complete fool of myself?

After what felt like forever, Luke reappeared, wiping his hands on a rag. “You want the good news or the bad news first?”

I tensed, my stomach twisting. “Bad news, I guess.”

“The alternator’s shot,” he said, leaning against the counter. “You’re lucky the car even made it here. If you’d gone much farther, you probably would’ve broken down completely.”

“And the good news?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.

He shrugged. “The rest of the car’s in decent shape. Once we replace the alternator, it should be good as new.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. How long will it take to fix?”

“Couple hours, maybe. Depends on how fast we can get the part delivered.”

“Great,” I said flatly, leaning back in my chair. “Guess I’ll just… wait here, then.”

Luke smirked. “Try not to look so thrilled.”

I shot him a glare, but he just laughed and walked away, heading back to the garage.

As the minutes ticked by, I couldn’t stop thinking about how strange this whole situation was. Luke O’Connor—the guy who had rescued me on Saturday night, the guy who seemed to show up in my life at the most inconvenient times—was now the one fixing my car.

And as much as I hated to admit it, there was something about him that made it hard to stay annoyed.

But I wasn’t about to tell him that.

I pulled out my phone, hoping to distract myself, but even that didn’t help. Jasmine still hadn’t replied to my texts from the weekend, which wasn’t like her. I stared at the screen, debating whether to call her, but part of me didn’t want to push. Maybe she needed space.

Or maybe something was wrong.

My thoughts spiraled as I sat there, the hum of the shop’s equipment in the background. The occasional clang of tools from the garage reminded me that Luke was just a few feet away, probably with that infuriating smirk on his face.

The door to the waiting room swung open, and Luke’s dad walked in, wiping his hands on his grease-streaked overalls. “Everything okay, Elle? You look a little… preoccupied.”

I blinked, startled. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

He tilted his head, studying me with a curious expression. “You know, you remind me of your dad. Same determined look. Marcus Sinclair, right?”

I nodded slowly, surprised. “You know my dad?”

“Sure do. He used to bring his old Mustang here back in the day. Always insisted on doing half the work himself, even when he didn’t have a clue what he was doing.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the image of my dad stubbornly trying to fix a car. “That sounds like him.”

Mr. O’Connor chuckled, leaning against the counter. “And now here you are, same Sinclair streak of independence.”

“Yeah,” I said, though my voice was tight. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this conversation than he was letting on.

Before I could ask, the door to the garage opened, and Luke stepped back in, his sleeves rolled up and a streak of grease on his forearm. “Part’s on its way,” he said, glancing between me and his dad. “Shouldn’t be too long now.”

“Good,” his dad said, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Keep me posted. I’ve got a meeting with a supplier.”

With that, Mr. O’Connor disappeared into the back, leaving me alone with Luke again.

“Everything okay?” Luke asked, his tone less teasing this time.

I hesitated, unsure why his question caught me off guard. “Yeah. Just… thinking about stuff.”

He nodded, leaning against the counter. “You seemed pretty worried about your friend Jasmine earlier. Did something happen?”

I frowned, surprised he’d noticed. “She didn’t answer my texts all weekend. That’s not like her.”

“Maybe she just needed some time,” he offered.

“Maybe,” I said, but I wasn’t convinced. Something about it felt off.

Luke watched me for a moment, like he wanted to say something else, but then the bell above the shop door chimed, signaling the arrival of the part.

“Looks like we’re back in business,” he said, flashing me a quick smile before heading back to the garage.

As I watched him go, I couldn’t help but feel like I was standing on the edge of something.