Burnout (Jack 'Em Up Book 0) by Shauna Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

on me.
    “Hi,” Rachel answered, a cocky smile in her voice.
    “Feeling better?” he asked me.
    “Sorta. Not really,” I admitted, shoving my half-empty soup cup away.
    He leaned in fractionally and his unique scent drifted to me, easing my stomach. I suddenly wanted to wrap myself in the comfort of his leather jacket again. “Think you’ll feel better by this weekend?”
    I opened my mouth, noticing how his gaze tracked to my lips. “I hope so. Why?”
    “Well, I still want you to come by the shop, but I was also hoping afterwards, you’d come with me to a party.”
    I shot a surprised glance to Rachel. She was still smirking, her focus on her food. I looked back to Blake. “A party?”
    “Yeah. My best friend, Jesse, and his family put on a big party every year for Christmas. It’s pretty nice, lots of food. And I want you to come. With me.” His hand had clasped mine under the table, and when I forced myself to relax, he interlaced our fingers. “Will you?”
    “I—”
    “Of course she’ll go,” Rachel interrupted.
    Blake’s dimples winked again. “Great.” He glanced across the table. “You’re welcome, too. Jesse’s family won’t mind, it’ll be fun.”
    She shrugged. “Maybe.”
    I still had no idea what was happening. I was holding Blake Travers’ hand while he and my bestie made my weekend plans.
    But, as he ducked his head and brushed a kiss to my nose, I found I didn’t care. Not one bit.

Blake
     
    I made sure to write notes and flirt with Delilah Jackson every day in Government class, then walk her to Physics, pecking kisses everywhere but her mouth each time. Somehow, that seemed like something private between us, not to be shared with anyone, and I would forever link her in my mind with the beach and moonlit nights.
    Yeah, I was playing with fire.
    Call me a pyro, but I couldn’t stay away from her. And I could tell she liked it, no matter what other kids said or how they stared at the resident punk and the town princess together. I couldn’t help but wonder what her daddy would say . . .
    Now, like an addict, I was at the auto shop on a Saturday morning, thirty minutes early, waiting to see her.
    I wasn’t lying, I had found a new bumper. Not that she’d really done anything to mine other than a small scratch. I just found a killer deal and wanted to replace it, along with the quarter panel we were making good progress on.
    I smelled her first; so out of place in a garage, her sweet berry scent wrapped me up like a blanket.
    I pivoted. “Hey, Princess.”
    “Hi.” She grinned and glanced down at the bumper leaning against the wall. “So . . . is that our project today?”
    The need to kiss her rushed through me, but I banked it. I needed to slow this way down. “Yeah.”
    “And the quarter thingy?” she asked as she shrugged out of her jacket, revealing a form-fitting yellow thermal top.
    “Quarter panel?” I laughed at her shrug. Cars and Delilah just did not mix. “It’s being painted.”
    Nodding, she approached, her eyes on the bumper. But my eyes were on her. She glanced up and caught me staring. “What?”
    “I’m just trying to figure a way to keep my hands off you.”
    Ocean blue eyes widened as a sweet pink blush stained her cheeks. I knew then, without a doubt, that she wanted me to touch her again. Really touch her. Not holding her hand, not friendly little kisses to her cheek.
    No, touch her in every way possible.
    And I wanted nothing more than to oblige, but something held me back. She was perfection, the damn Mona Lisa, and I was a grease monkey from the other side of the tracks. Literally. I didn’t care about much in this world, but even I cared enough not to soil a perfect rose.
    “Why?” That one word came out in a breathy whisper from her lips. And, suddenly, the garage felt like a closet.
    “Why what?”
    Her gaze dipped, met mine again. “Why are you trying to keep your hands off?”
    Good God.
    I squeezed my temples and sucked in a