Chapter Six - No Strings Attached

I spent the entire drive home replaying what had happened in the walk-in. Not that I was complaining. Quite the opposite, actually.

I could still feel Adrian’s hand around my waist, the heat of his palm throughout my shirt, the way his fingers had tightened when I leaned into him. I could still remember how close he’d stood afterward, his mouth hovering just far enough from mine to make me wonder whether he was waiting for me to ask for more.

This is ridiculous. One kiss, and I was acting like a teenager with her first crush. Get a grip, Sky…

We’d been flirting for months and had already talked about hooking up. This wasn’t some unexpected declaration of love. It was a kiss.

A really good kiss…

The kind that left my lips tingling and my pulse refusing to settle. And that was all it had to be.

The next afternoon, my phone buzzed while I was getting ready for work.

Adrian: You working tonight?

Me: Unfortunately.

Adrian: Good. Was hoping I’d see you.

I smiled before I could stop myself.

Me: Thought you were sick of me.

Adrian: Never said that, you still owe me a kiss.

I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen.

Me: I do?

Adrian: You stopped at one.

Heat climbed up my neck.

Apparently, neither of us planned to pretend it hadn’t happened.

By the time I got to work, Adrian was already there, leaning against the counter. His sleeves were pushed up, exposing his forearms and his attention shifted to me before I’d even finished walking through the door.

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

“Hey, trouble.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Trouble, you say?”

I laughed as I walked past him, letting my shoulder brush his chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet…”

His voice followed me, low and amused. I could feel his gaze.

The shift passed with the usual chaos, but something had changed. I was suddenly aware of every inch between us, every brush of his hand that felt a little less accidental. When he passed before him, his hand skimmed my lower back. It was a small gesture, barely there. His fingers lingered for half a second before he pulled away, as though he were testing whether I’d let him.

Nobody else would’ve thought twice about it.

I did.

I kept my hands busy with the order in front of me, refusing to turn around immediately. When I finally did, Adrian was watching me with an expression that was almost innocent.

Almost.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Fine.”

“Looked like you forgot what you were doing.”

“I was deciding whether to elbow you.”

His mouth curved. “You could’ve.”

“I know.”

The space between us tightened. For one reckless second, I wanted to grab the front of his shirt and pull him into the nearest empty corner.

Instead, I picked up the order and walked away.

Once again, we were the last two in the parking lot after closing. I was searching my bag for my keys when Adrian approached, stopping inches away from me. “Do you need a ride?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” His eyes dropped briefly to my mouth. The look lasted less than a second, but it was enough.

He climbed into the passenger seat, and we drove in comfortable silence until he turned down the radio. The sudden quiet made the car feel smaller.

“About the other night…”

I kept my eyes on the road. “What about it?”

“Are we going to pretend it didn’t happen?”

“Would you like to?”

“Not particularly.” His voice was lighter than his expression. He was watching me now, one arm resting against the door, his body angled in my directions.

“Good,” I said. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

His smile appeared, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then what are we doing, Sky?”

There it was – the question I’d been avoiding. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “I thought we’d already discussed this. Friends with benefits. No strings. No expectations.”

“Right.”

The word settled between us. I glanced at him. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

He held my gaze for a beat too long before looking out the window. “No…I’m good with that.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

We both laughed at how awkward we were about something we agreed on, but neither of us sounded entirely convinced.

At the next red light, Adrian reached over and rested his hand on my thigh.

The contact was warm and unhurried. His thumb moved once, barely brushing the seam of my jeans, then stopped.

I glanced down at it. “You’re awfully comfortable over there.”

“Want me to move?”

The light changed.

I should’ve told him yes. I should’ve made him take his hand away before the moment became something neither of us could dismiss. Instead, I eased the car forward.

“No.”

His smile widened. “Thought so.” His hand stayed there for the rest of the drive. Neither of us mentioned it again.

Over the next few weeks, Adrian and I settled into a routine. We still worked together, teased each other, argued about music on the drives home. Now there were sneaking glances throughout service, knowing smiles, lingering kisses in the walk-in. Lots of late night visits, and mornings when I woke to find him asleep beside me.

At work, we became experts at pretending nothing was happening. He’d stand behind me while I reached for something on the top shelf, close enough that his chest nearly brushed my back.

I’d feel his breath near my ear and refuse to turn around. 

He’d pass me a plate and let his fingers catch mine.

I’d hold his gaze for one dangerous second before looking away.

Sometimes, he’d lean against the counter and watch me move through the kitchen with an expression that made me forget what I was doing. When I caught him, he never looked embarrassed.

He only smiled.

We never called it dating. We never discussed what would happen if one of us started seeing someone else or talked about the future.

For a while, I convinced myself that was enough.

I liked having him around – the way he made me laugh, turn ordinary shifts into something I looked forward to, and knew when I needed extra attention. After a bad day, he’d pull me against him without asking questions. On days after long nights working then racing and back to work again, he’d greet me with my favorite energy drink to start my shift. Sometimes we spent entire evenings together without discussing anything important.

It was easy.

Comfortable.

Dangerously easy.

Outside of work, River had apparently decided my Challenger was his next personal project. I found out when he messaged me one afternoon.

River: Bring the car over tomorrow.

Me: Why?

River: Because I said so.

Me: Compelling argument.

River: Trust the process.

Me: That’s what people say before they ruin something.

River: You’re so dramatic. 2PM. Don’t be late.

I should’ve known better than to argue. The following afternoon, I pulled into River’s driveway. The garage was already open, and the grey Honda sat outside, its missing headlight giving it a permanent attitude problem.

River appeared with a rag in hand. “You’re late.”

“I’m two minutes early.”

“Late in mechanic time.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is now.”

I laughed. “So, what’s the emergency?”

River pointed at my car. “That.”

“My car?”

“No, the other black Challenger in my driveway.”

“Okay, smartass. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing. That’s the problem.” He grinned. “Today, we’re going to make it interesting.”

River returned from the garage with a notepad covered in parts lists and notes.

“I’ve been thinking about your build.”

“That’s concerning,” I frowned.

“Very funny. Hear me out.” He showed me the plan – what the car needed, which parts were worth investing in, and what we’d have to save for before adding serious power.

“You’ve been planning this?”

“Obviously.”

“How long?”

“A while.”

“River, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know.” His expression softened. “But you want to build something fun while you’re making money, right?”

“Yeah… I do.”

“Then let’s build something fun.”

For the next couple of hours, River walked me through the details. The project was more involved than I’d expected. Apparently, throwing a turbocharger into an engine bay wasn’t as simple as buying one and hoping for the best.

Who knew?

“So what’s the timeline?” I asked.

“Depends how much money you want to throw at this thing.”

“Preferably not all of it.”

“Then we’re going to take our time.”

At the bottom of the page, River had written a heading:

The Challenger Project

I laughed. “Really?”

“What? You got a better name?”

“Literally anything.”

“Too late. It’s official.”

I shook my head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m an idiot with a plan.”

I looked over the list again. “And this idiot better set me up with some good races so I can make the money for all this…”

For the first time in a while, I had something to look forward to that wasn’t another shift or another bill.

Something that was mine. That I could build. Something I finally had control over. Before I could second guess myself I said, “Okay, okay…let’s  full send this shit.”

The sun was already dipping below the horizon by the time I left River’s place – my gas pedal getting more and more touchy every time I visited.

My phone buzzed as I pulled out of the driveway.

Adrian: What are you up to?

Me: Apparently building a race car.

Adrian: Should I be concerned?

Me: Probably.

Adrian: You’re trouble.

Me: Says you.

I glanced at the texts, smiling to myself.

Maybe I was, and for once, I didn’t mind

A few minutes later, another message came through.

Adrian: Actually, I have some news.

Me: Should I be concerned about this too?

Adrian: Smartass. I got the job.

I had almost forgotten about that. I stared at the screen as a smile crept on my face. I knew he wanted to get into bartending – line cook life got repetitive. I was ecstatic for him.

Adrian: And remember how I told you my car was in the shop?

I frowned at the screen.

Me: Yeah??

Adrian: Well… it hasn’t been in the shop for the past month.

Me: Excuse me???

Adrian: It got fixed a while ago.

I blinked, rereading it.

Me: Adrian…are you fucking kidding me?

Adrian: Before you get mad, hear me out…

Adrian: I just liked having an excuse to spend time with you.

He caught me off-guard once again.

Me: So you’ve been letting me drive you home this entire time when you had a perfectly working car?

Adrian: Pretty much.

Me: You couldn’t have just asked to hang out like a normal person?

Adrian: Would you have said yes?

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Annoyingly, I didn’t have an answer.

Me: That’s not the point.

Adrian: For what it’s worth, those drives were my favorite part of the day.

Something about the admission made my chest feel unexpectedly warm. All those evenings I’d thought we were simply making the best of his car trouble, he’d been choosing to spend that time with me.

Me: So does this mean you’re finally going to start driving around yourself again?

Adrian: Guess so.

Me: Wow, what am I to do with all this free time?

Adrian: Don’t get too excited. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.

I smiled at the message. I hope so…

Me: Unfortunately, I think I’ll survive.

A few seconds passed before his next message came through.

Adrian: I’ll miss seeing you every day, though.

Me: Who said you won’t still see me?

Adrian: Guess we’ll have to figure that out.

I set my phone down, still smiling. It was good news. Really good news. He deserved it, and I was genuinely happy for him. But I hadn’t considered what it would mean for us.

For the past few months, those drives became a part of my routine. The teasing, the music, the conversations that somehow always lasted longer than they needed. My cheeks warmed at the thought of the late nights in back seats with fogged windows.

I glanced at the passenger seat, remembering all the evenings he’d spent sitting there, pretending he had nowhere else to be.

Apparently, neither of us had been as casual about those drives as we’d let on. I pulled onto the road, a smile still tugging at my lips. I had no idea what would happen once we weren’t seeing each other every day.

But for now, I was happy. And maybe that should’ve been enough.