Read Zeke (The Powers That Be, Book 2) for Free Online Page B

seemed to bring out the dumb in me,
his hotness just lobotomizing me. I wondered how long it’d take me
to start behaving as if I had a friggin’ clue, jeez.
    He began to
explain his funny story. “So, after I got here I tried going in but
the doors were locked. I didn’t have your number,” he shot me a
look with his eyebrow raised, “so I tried calling the office, but
this campus is where my cell phone service goes to die, so I walked
around out here trying to get some bars on my phone, holding it out
in front of me like an idiot, like it was some kind of divining rod
or something. I won’t bother mentioning all the strange looks I got
from people leaving their classes.”
    That made me
giggle and he shot me another look, teasingly this time. And
whoops. I forgot the doors were timed to lock at seven and mumbled
an “I’m sorry” which got me another hand squeeze and another
jaw-dropping grin.
    Once in the
parking lot, we headed toward a black pickup truck. “I thought we’d
take my truck, if that’s okay?”
    I nodded and
when we reached his truck, he dropped my hand and opened the
passenger door putting his hand on the small of my back to help me
inside which, of course, sent a shiver through me, and as I put my
seatbelt on, I watched as he walked around to his side, mesmerized
by how handsome he was. He was also pretty easygoing having made me
feel comfortable each time we’d talked, so taking a deep breath, I
decided to come out of my fog and actually show him I had a
personality.
    After he got
in and started the engine, I looked over at him. “So, Chevy, huh?
Guess you must like recalls?”
    He looked over
and stared back at me for a moment through narrowed eyes and I was
afraid I’d pissed him off. Then he barked out a laugh, throwing his
head back and it was the most beautiful thing I think I’d ever
seen, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the masculine column of his neck.
Wow.
    “Really gonna
go there, are you?” He chuckled, and reaching across, rested his
arm against the back of my seat and playfully tugged on a piece of
my hair. “And just what do you know about cars?”
    I couldn’t
help but smile at him. “My dad’s a truck driver, so I’ve listened
to him talk. I think I was born knowing what an intake manifold
was. My crib mobile probably had spark plugs hanging from it.” I
shrugged.
    He stared at
me for a moment, eyes dancing in amusement, then moved his arm away
and put the truck in gear. “Yeah? What line does your dad drive
for?”
    I told him the
name of the company and he told me his dad had worked on some of
their engines before. We talked then about his dad’s shop and he’d
started telling me he’d worked there every summer since he was old
enough to hold a wrench just as we pulled up to O’Leary’s Sports
Bar. My friend Natalie was a waitress here and I wondered if she’d
be working tonight. I’d almost applied here instead of taking the
work study job in the Dean’s office, but she’d complained about the
football jerseys she had to wear so I passed. She’d also told me
there was a hot bartender, which had piqued my interest a bit, but
when she’d said he was kind of a jerk, I double passed. I’d had
enough of jerks.
    When we
parked, before I could even get my seatbelt off, Zeke was at my
door opening it holding out his hand to help me down. Keeping my
hand in his (which freaked me out a little because I wasn’t used to
all the touching), he led me to the entrance and once inside, he
told the hostess we’d be sitting at the bar.
    He took off
his jacket and hung it on the rack by the door (keeping his cap on
to torture me, I suppose) then helped me with my coat—God, such a
gentleman—then he took my hand again leading me toward the back
where we sat on stools at the bar.
    “Hey,” an
extremely good-looking guy said from behind the bar walking over to
where we sat. He must’ve been the bartender Natalie had talked
about because he was hot. And upon getting a