I hated to do it, but I got in the car and drove over to Ryan's. He wasn't there but Danny sat down and listened to me. After I poured out the story of my mother’s phone call, she didn't hesitate. "Emily...you have nothing to worry about. Ryan and I will pay for your tuition next semester if your parents don't come around."
I was so relieved, I jumped up and hugged her hard. She returned it with vigor.
I didn't tell her, though, about owing the money to Nix because she and Ryan didn’t need to be burdened with my own stupidity. I was still stewing about that when we went to the party at Linc's condo, and so on top of the shock of seeing him standing there I now realized I had to confront the dilemma that faced me. And since they say that honesty is the best policy, I figured I should spill my guts to him.
I have to say, based upon my limited experience with him when I flattened his motorcycle, Nix actually took my inability to pay him much better than I thought he would. I could tell he wasn't happy about it but his offer to let me work the debt off was the best I could hope for.
And so, here I am, driving to Nix’s house in Hoboken. I've been wondering all weekend why Nix was at that party. I never got a chance to ask him because after we struck our deal, he didn't say another word and just walked away. I didn't see him again for the rest of the night. I would have to remember to ask him why he was there.
I pull into the driveway of the address Nix had sent me. It's a two-story home in a middle class, slightly rundown neighborhood. Large oak trees line the streets and a few kids are riding bicycles on the sidewalk. I pull in behind a dilapidated Ford Bronco that has chunks of the body rusted completely through. Guilt courses through me as I realize this is what Nix is probably driving since I killed his motorcycle.
I knock on the front door but no one answers. I walk around the back and see a large garage and workshop at the rear of the yard. I head that way.
When I get to the workshop, I open the door and walk in. It's spacious and well organized. There's a large worktable with various pieces of equipment all around. I wonder what he does with all this stuff. I notice a desk sits against one wall and it's covered with mounds of paper. My new job, I assume.
Nix isn't in here but there is a door at the back of the shop so I decide to check in there. I open the door and get a brief glimpse of a white, hot light and sparks shooting everywhere.
"Get the f**k out, Emily!"
I jump about a foot in the air when Nix yells at me and stumble backward through the door. He's stalking through it toward me, even as I'm still stumbling backward. He's furious and I have no clue what I've done.
"Don't ever go in that room when the door is closed. That means I'm welding and you could burn your eyes if you look at that light," he bellows.
My blood is zinging through my body. He scared the crap out of me when he yelled and now he is just pissing me off. "Don't yell at me like that. I had no clue that was dangerous. Maybe if you posted a sign on the door, I wouldn't have gone in there."
He stares at me for several long seconds then seems to deflate. "I'm sorry," he grumbles at me. "I was just worried you'd get hurt."
This appeases me somewhat and I can feel my heart rate slowing. Nix turns his back to me and walks over to a counter mounted on the wall. He removes a pair of gloves and I take the opportunity to check him out. He's wearing a pair of well-faded jeans that look soft as sin. They hang right at his hipbones, held up by a thick, black belt lined with metal studs. He's wearing an olive green t-shirt that is tightly molded to his chest. He reaches up to put his gloves on a shelf and his shirt creeps up just a bit.
Nice!
Black biker boots complete his outfit and while it's not the attire I normally see on guys I associate with, I have to say it looks damn fine on him. It speaks to who he is...casual and rough. And sexy.
And completely out of my league.
I take in his clothing with just a quick glance but I'm fascinated by the tattoos that are peaking out just under the sleeves of his t-shirt. He has three strands of black barbed wire circling each bicep. Some of the prongs have been inked to look like they are digging into his skin, and there are realistic drops of blood dripping from each wound. It's a terrifying piece of artwork and sinfully erotic just because of its badass look. I've never seen anything like it.
I pull my eyes from his tats and look at him. My face heats up as I realize he's been watching me ogle his arms.
"Like what you see?" The remark should have been a teasing comment but his voice is hard.
I try to play it cool. "Not really. Just fascinated, that's all."
"If you want to see more of my tattoos, you only have to ask. I'll be glad to strip down and show you everything." There...now that was teasing in his voice but his eyes are still hard. It's like he wants to tease me but has no clue how to do it. For some reason, that makes me feel sad for him.
Nix is eyeing me closely for my response. I have to reflexively push my tongue to my lips to keep from swallowing it. The thought of him pulling his t-shirt off so I can see his tattoos causes warmth to rush through my entire body and my gut clenches almost painfully. With every bit of strength that I can muster, I calmly respond, "No, thanks. I'm here to do a job, and that's all."
Nix shrugs his shoulders as if my disinterest doesn't bother him and I suddenly realize his offer to strip was only done to throw me off. He really has no interest in me that way at all.