It's Complicated (Legacy Mechanics Book 2), page 3
“Kinda like how it’s my fault we broke that picture frame because you threw a shoe at me and I deflected it into the frame?” We put the couch down on the floor.
“It wasn’t a shoe. It was a Croc. And I didn’t throw it at you. I tossed it in your general direction as you just happened to walk into its path.”
His grin was wide, and his eyes were bright with humor as he used his foot to nudge the couch into the right spot.
The last of the tension in my shoulders melted away. Isaac was okay, and he was back to his usual self.
Now I just needed to get over my issues so we could forget it ever happened and go back to the way things were.
3
ISAAC
“No,” Jamie said the moment I opened my bedroom door, a shirt clutched in my hand.
“What?” I asked innocently.
“Not happening.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me, but I could see his smile under it.
“A bet is a bet.” I waved the shirt at him.
“The bet was I’d wear whatever shirt you picked out tonight. That’s not a shirt.”
“It totally is.” I tried to hold it up by the shoulders to show him, but the material twisted into a tangled mess. “One sec.”
Jamie stood quietly as I unraveled the shirt.
The thing was similar to a leotard, only it didn’t have a built-in crotch in it. The shirt was covered in a mess of cutouts, so it kind of looked like fishnet but had a variety of other patterns on it instead of a uniform one. The cutouts were all different shapes and sizes, and the material was super stretchy, at least that’s what the online listing claimed, so it was tiny and looked like someone had taken a pair of scissors to it. I didn’t blame him for being skeptical.
“See, totally shirt-shaped.” I showed off the untangled top. “Ergo, it’s a shirt.”
“It’s tiny.”
“It’ll stretch. Hopefully,” I added. “I’ve got a backup in case it doesn’t.”
“Do I want to know what that one looks like?” He arched his eyebrow and gave me a pointed look.
“Probably not.”
The other shirt was in the same style, only it was way looser and tie-dyed, while this one was black. Both were ridiculous, but at least the black one wasn’t as in your face.
“I hate you.” He held out his hand.
“No, you don’t.” I gave it to him, then leaned against the doorframe as he held it up like it was made of snakes and not polyester.
“How the fuck does this even work?” He pulled on the sides to stretch them out. The thing was still insanely small, but at least now it sort of looked like it was shirt-shaped.
I shrugged. “Same as any other shirt. You pull it over your head, put your arms through the arm holes, and voilà.”
He shot me a flat look. “Thanks. I never would have figured that out on my own.”
“Happy to help.” I tossed him a cheesy grin. “Now hop to it. We’re late.”
“You realize I’m getting you back for this, right?”
“I expect nothing less.” I made a “hurry up” motion with my hand. “I’m waiting for the big reveal.”
“I’ll give you a big reveal,” he muttered, fumbling with the many strings and straps on the shirt as he tried to separate the front from the back to find a way to get it on.
Watching him struggle with it was half the fun, and I was bent over and laughing my ass off by the time he managed to work the thing over his head.
“I hate you,” he repeated, his face ensconced in a mess of strings and straps like he’d gotten caught in a giant black spider web.
“I’m dead,” I wheezed, holding my stomach as he tried to peel the pieces of the shirt down over his face.
“Either help me get this on, or you’re going out alone,” he said, his tone flat and unimpressed.
A snort of laughter tore out of me just as I got control of myself. He’d managed to get his arms into it, but the material was stuck around his elbows and biceps, trapping his arms so they were raised and stuck against his ears.
“Z.” He tried to use his arms to pull the shirt over his head but ended up looking like he was impersonating the top part of a corkscrew.
My laughter faded a little at the nickname. Jamie was the only person who called me Z. Most people didn’t even bother trying to shorten my first name and just called me by my last name. I was used to it, thanks to a decade and a half of playing hockey, but I couldn’t deny the little thrill I got every time Jamie called me Z.
“Hold still, I got you.”
He did as I said, still glaring at me through the shirt, as I stepped up to him and carefully pulled different sections of the material down until his head popped free.
Between the two of us, we got his arms all the way into the shirt and worked it down until it covered his torso.
“Do I look as stupid as I think I do?” He ran one hand down his chest and stomach. “Now I know what cheese feels like.”
“Cheese?” I asked dumbly.
I’d picked the shirt because I’d thought it would be hilarious to not only watch him put it on but also see how ridiculous he looked with his muscular body squished into it.
I couldn’t explain why, but ridiculous wasn’t how I’d describe it now that he had it on. The way it stretched over his muscles was enticing in a way I didn’t understand. The little cutouts created an intricate web of design over his skin that was kind of sexy.
What the hell?
“You know, like when you make cheese and you have to strain it through cheesecloth?” he clarified. “That’s how I feel right now.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever made cheese or thought about how cheese is made,” I said, still a bit weirded out by where my thoughts had just gone.
“I can’t wear this in public.” He flicked his nipples, the hard buds poking through two of the cutouts.
My body tightened, a flush of heat creeping up my neck as the memory of him tweaking his nipple during our threesome invaded my thoughts.
A full week had passed since that mistake, and we’d put it behind us. All the weirdness from before had disappeared, and I’d managed to stop obsessing about it every time I looked at him.
Now I really only thought about it at night when I was trying to sleep or when I had some downtime and wasn’t distracted by other stuff. I could handle that, but these random memory flashes were the worst. They hit out of nowhere and were impossible to ignore because of how visceral my reactions to them were.
“I’ll allow an amendment to our original agreement,” I said. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed my distraction.
The corner of his mouth tilted up in a smile. “You will?”
“Just this once, so you don’t get arrested for accidental nip slips.”
“So generous of you.”
“I know.” I grinned. “You can wear a t-shirt over it while we’re out.”
“So generous,” he repeated, his tone impassive.
“What can I say? I’m awesome.” I gave him a hard slap on the shoulder. “Now go grab a cover-up so we can get going. You’re making us late.”
Jamie flipped me off and stalked into his room.
I tried not to look at his back as he did but failed, my eyes tracing over his strong muscles and the weirdly hot shirt.
He came back a second later in a black t-shirt that fit him like a second skin.
“Before you ask.” He pulled the neckline of his tee down, showing the top of the other shirt. “A bet is a bet.”
“Good boy.”
He punched me in the shoulder. “Asshole.”
“You know it.” I punched him back. “I’ll drive.”
He shot me a weird look. I didn’t offer to drive often because that meant I couldn’t drink but avoiding booze tonight was probably a good idea.
My head was already in a weird place, and drinking would only make it worse.
“Why do you look like you’re picturing someone’s death?”
I glanced at Asa over the rim of my glass as I took a sip of the soda I’d been nursing.
“Am I wrong?” he asked knowingly.
“Yes.” I put my glass down.
“No, I’m not.” He grinned.
“You’re annoyingly observant,” I grumbled.
He grinned wider.
“Shut up.”
“So grumpy tonight.” He clucked his tongue. “And here I thought I was the downer of the group. You’re stealing my thunder.”
I chuckled, some of my bad mood lifting.
Asa and I had started working at Legacy Mechanics three years ago and had been friends ever since. A lot of people didn’t really get Asa and wrote him off as a buzzkill because of his stoic nature, but that was because they didn’t know him.
Once he was comfortable with you, Asa was silly and funny and weird, but in a restrained way. He was also one of the most observant people I’d ever met, and one of the smartest.
“It’s nothing.” I shrugged, cutting my gaze around the crowded bar. “Just a weird night.”
“Uh huh,” he said, his expression dubious.
“It’s nothing,” I repeated, my gaze catching on Jamie and the cute redhead he was talking to.
He’d gone to get another pitcher for the table but had gotten sidelined by the chick who was currently hanging off him.
My stomach twisted uncomfortably as she laughed and tossed her long hair over her shoulder. He said something else, and she smiled up at him, putting one hand on his arm and sidling closer.
Jamie grinned, turning on his million-watt smile.
One of Jamie’s best features was his smile. It was wide and bright and genuine, and it gave him an air of approachability that drew people to him. He knew how to use it too, and for some reason, seeing him smile at her the same way he smiled at every girl he flirted with bothered me.
The girl shifted closer and ran her hand up his arm, then curled it over his bicep like she was testing his muscles.
The churning in my stomach got worse as Jamie flexed for her, showing off his toned arms and letting her grope him.
“You might want to take a look at your pants,” Asa said.
“What?” I shook my head and returned my attention to him. “Pants?”
“Yeah.” Asa’s face was the picture of innocence. “Because I think they might be smoldering.”
“Smoldering?” I blinked a few times, trying to pick up the thread of conversation. “Oh, like they’re on fire because I’m lying?”
“All I’m saying is that whatever you’ve got going on there”—he waved at my face—“isn’t giving off ‘it’s nothing’ vibes.”
“It’s…complicated,” I said lamely.
“Sure it is.” Asa studied me for a moment.
“It is,” I insisted. “But it’s really nothing. Just a weird moment.”
“Okay.” Asa sipped his drink, his black nails stark against the pale ale inside the glass. “If you say so.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to Asa about things; it was more that I had no idea what the fuck to say.
So me and Jamie had a threesome last week, but instead of paying attention to the girl, I spent the whole time focused on him and staring into his eyes until we came at the same time. And did I mention that the stupid mesh shirt he has on under his tee is actually really hot on him, and I have no idea why the fuck my dick likes it?
Yeah, that wasn’t exactly a five-minute conversation you could have at the bar with your buddy.
“I’m just going to say something,” Asa said after a pause. “You can do with it what you will, but I think you need to hear it.”
I forced myself to focus on him and stop thinking about Jamie and his redhead for a second.
“You and Jamie are unshakable. Your friendship is the kind that most of us dream of finding. Don’t be a dumbass and shut him out like you do whenever things get difficult.” He held up his hand, stopping my protests before they could start.
“You know you do it, and it’s not your fault. Just don’t push him away because you’re panicking about something. Talk to him, trust him. Don’t let the shit other people have done to you fuck things up with him.”
Slowly, I nodded, taking in every word.
Jamie was my best friend, my ride-or-die, but Asa was my next closest friend. We’d spent a lot of time together over the past three years, and I’d told him more about my life and all the things I kept bottled up than anyone, even Jamie.
Maybe it was because he was so mature for his age that I forgot I was talking to a twenty-two-year-old and not some old person with a ton of life experience and all the wisdom of the world. Asa was also an incredibly good listener. He didn’t just listen to you. He heard you. And he always seemed to know exactly what to say to help me work shit out when I needed it.
I trusted him, and if he was telling me to be careful, then I was going to be careful.
“Thanks. That helped.” I toasted him with my soda.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “No big.”
Almost without my permission, my eyes wandered back to where Jamie was still getting his flirt on with the redhead, who was practically rubbing up against him like a cat in heat now. My mood soured even more.
What the fuck was wrong with me? First I’d gotten jealous enough to agree to a damn threesome when he’d been flirting with April, and now I was seething because he was chatting up some random?
This was what we did. We worked hard and played harder. But tonight wasn’t supposed to be about picking up. We’d come here to have a few drinks with the guys from my shop and hang out.
But that hadn’t happened. Currently, only Asa and I were still at the table.
Jamie was off with his redhead, and Zander was outside getting some air. He wasn’t a fan of crowds, and it wasn’t unusual for him to need to disappear for a bit when we were out. Luka was talking to a blonde near the pool tables, and Jesse was off somewhere making moon-eyes at his boyfriend.
“You still look stabby,” Asa commented.
“I still feel stabby.” I downed a few gulps of my soda, the burning in my throat from the carbonation helping to ground me. “I need a distraction.”
“We could play pool,” Asa suggested with a grin.
“And have you sink all your balls before I even get a shot in? No thanks. I’d like to keep at least a shred of my dignity tonight.”
The first time I played pool against Asa had been a lesson in humility. I hadn’t learned until after that game that he was an actual pool shark and routinely rolled guys for money when they underestimated his skills.
“Darts?” He paused. “Probably not a good idea to give you a weapon you can throw right now.”
“Probably not,” I agreed.
“Then I got nothing.” He shrugged.
“Do you have to head out soon?” I asked, glancing at my watch.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the screen, then tucked it away with a sigh. “Yeah.”
“Where is everyone?” Jamie asked, coming up to the table with a pitcher in his hand.
“Around.” Asa waved in the general direction of the bar.
“Want another?” Jamie asked Asa.
He shook his head. “Gotta head out soon.”
“Right.” Jamie poured half a glass for himself, then put the pitcher on the table. “Forgot you had to bail early.”
“Where’s your redhead?” I asked with all the chill of an overzealous interviewer.
“Redhead?” Jamie blinked at me.
“That girl.” I motioned toward the bar, trying to tamp down my emotions and appear curious, not crazed. “You were chatting her up?”
“Oh, her.” He shrugged. “How should I know?”
“You’re not doing something about that?” I pressed.
Why couldn’t I let it go? Why was I needling him about this?
He shot me a strange look. “No. That’s not what tonight is about.”
I relaxed, guilt replacing my earlier irritation.
“Are you sure you’re not the one being crushed by a polyester cage?” he asked with a grin. “I’m the one who can barely breathe, yet you’re grumpy.”
“How did you get that thing on?” Asa asked, saving me from having to come up with a witty retort. He’d seen part of it when we first got there and had to explain why we were late.
“With a little help and a lot of struggle.” He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I’m stuck in this thing forever.”
“You might need to cut it off,” Asa said, flicking his gaze to me. “Next time get him a bodysuit.”
“Bodysuit?” we both asked.
He nodded, his grin wicked. “Yup. You can even get the kind with built-in shorts or stockings.”
“Hell yeah,” I said at the same time Jamie shook his head with a resounding “No.”
Asa finished the rest of his beer and put the glass on the table. “I’m going to head out. The last thing I need is to show up late and get lectured.”
“Good luck,” Jamie wished him.
“You got this,” I encouraged.
He shot us a wry smile. “Say bye to the others for me?”
We nodded.
“Catch ya on the flip side.” He lifted his hand in a wave.
“Later,” we chorused as he headed away from the table.
“You okay?” Jamie asked.
I nodded. “Fine.”
He slipped his fingers under the neck of his tee and tugged at some of the strings on the bet shirt. “Can you imagine trying to pick up with this on? Not sure how many girls would be down for cutting a random out of a strappy undershirt before the fun could start.”
“I’m sure there are a few girls out there who’d be into that,” I said, my mood almost back to normal. “I used to have a thing with this girl who was into all sorts of goth stuff. She had daggers on her walls and even a few swords. Pretty sure she’d be all over using one of those to cut you out of that thing.”
He laughed. “I had a thing with a goth girl too, back in college.”
