Unforgotten Desire

Does he know me?

Khloe

"Where's your car?" I heard he asked. He was leaning on a truck. I couldn't deny the fact that he looked so freaking sexy with that post. He had his arms and legs crossed. He, being shirtless, made the situation... hotter.

Snap out of it, Khloe. Just ask him to fix the flat tire already.

I cleared my throat. I almost face palmed myself because it sounded so weird.

Well, this is so awkward.

I looked at him. It was annoying that I couldn't help but stare into his eyes. "Uhm. Can you at least put a shirt on?"

There was something in the way he looked at me. His eyes... They looked like they were trying to read me. They were so intense and they somehow made me nervous.

Does he know me?

"Where did you come from, by the way?"

"What do you mean?"

Why was he so intimidating?

I pursed my lips together. The way he stared at me was starting to creep me out. He was trying to study me. I just knew it. "I mean, you weren't here when I came in."

He pointed the other truck on the right corner of the shop. "I was fixing some parts under it."

He was so straight to the point. That was what I observed about him.

You are studying him too.

"What can I help you with?"

That was when I realized he seemed tired. I watched him yawn. He didn't even try to turn around and do that. He rubbed his hands over his face, then put them in his pockets. He must have been working all day. I felt bad. I should let him rest. I could find another car repair shop.

"Never mind. It looks like you're already tired. Of course, you are. You must have been working all day. I'll just look for another sho-"

"Where's your car?"

"What?"

"Your car, where is it?"

"Uhm. A few meters from here. Why?"

He didn't say anything after that. He turned his back to me and walked to get a shirt that was hung on a coat stand. I was just standing like a statue, watching him put his ragged white shirt on. It was fast, but it became a slow motion for me. I couldn't help but watch him like an i***t. I blamed his back for being so sexy.

I snapped out of my dreamy state when I saw he turned to face me. He looked at me for a second before passing by me. Our shoulders almost touched. I took a deep breath and turned. I couldn't but watch his every move. He was putting tools in a toolbox or a repair kit. When he thought he had everything he needed, he took a spare tire and stood up. He faced me. "Let's go."

His hands are so occupied. "I'll bring this." My hand already touched the handle of the toolbox when he suddenly moved it away, making me bumped into his chest.

I was breathing heavily. We just made a body contact. My right was still holding the handle of the toolbox. We were both holding it. My other hand was shamelessly planted on his chest. I didn't realize he was that tall until I lifted my face off of his chest.

"Let go. It's heavy."

Slowly, I looked up. I regretted because he was already looking down at me. "Move your hand away from the toolbox."

Just my hand? Does it mean he doesn't want me to move away?

My eyes widened at the thought. What the hell was wrong with me?

Compose yourself, Khloe Miller Evans.

I did as he told. I let go of the handle. It was embarrassing because I didn't want to move away from but I have to. I lifted my left hand off of his chest and took three steps back. "I'm sorry." I looked anywhere but him.

"Let's go to your car."

"Okay."

We walked out of the shop and walked silently to where my car was situated. Nobody dared to speak. We were both silent. Or were we just so stubborn?

Since the streets were dark, I had to turn the flashlight in my phone. The night was chilly. Good thing, I was wearing an executive jacket. I was worried about him. The fabric of his shirt looked thin. Wasn't he feeling cold?

Are you concerned?

Maybe?

As we walked side by side, I couldn't help but wonder if he knows me. I was really curious. There was something in his eyes every time we made eye contact. The problem was I couldn't decipher it. Unlike other guys, he looked so composed and serious. He seemed to not be the guy who flirts right away when they see a lady.

Do you expect that he would flirt with you?

What? No.

Something was definitely wrong with me. Why was I thinking things like that?

Stuff like-

"Is this your car?"

"Huh?" Was it me? I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I saw a white BMW 5 Series. Right, it was my car. "Yeah. This is it."

He began working with the problem, without uttering a word. I, on the other hand was trying myself to keep calm. I felt so uneasy. I badly want to start a conversation with him, but I didn't know how. He was too intimidating to converse with.

"What can I do to help?" The flashlight in my phone was still on. Somehow, it helped but I wanted to do something that could would exert an effort. I felt so useless, just watching him fix a flat tire.

"Just wait and keep the flashlight on."

I sighed. I guessed he didn't want any help then. So, I just stood and watched him. He had leather gloves on as he changed the flat tire with the spare one. I really owed him a lot.

He was sitting on the ground. Without thinking, I squatted beside him, keeping the light on over us. He looked at me. I smiled at him. By the light over us, I could see his facial features clearly. He had little freckles on his left cheekbone. I found it cute. His nose was perfect. It has the perfect bridge and point over. Almost absent-mindedly, my eyes moved to look downwards. They settled on his lips. Damn. They looked so soft, so tempting.

When I realized what I was doing, I looked away and cleared my throat. I almost slapped my face when I found myself licking my lips. When I turned to look at him again, he was back to his work. That was when I saw how long his lashes and his thick eyebrows were.

His eyes.

They were his most attractive asset. They were deep blue and green. They always looked so intense and mesmerizing. They drew me in. And every girl would find him attractive because of his eyes. They held so much.

His hair.

They were long, thick, dark brown, almost black. He was an image of my ideal guy.

Who is he?

My thoughts were disturbed when he was done changing the flat tire and stood up. I so too.

"Done." He spoke.

"Uhm. Thank you so much. Here." I handed him two bucks.

"It's too much." He refused.

I shook my head. "No. It's fine. I owe you so much. And it's very late. Please just accept this."

He was silent for a few seconds. He had his down until he spoke. "In one condition. Tell me your name."

He didn't just say it. His eyes were locked to mine as he said it. They held so much emotion. They looked tired but they were... pleading.

Tears were threatening to spill out, but I held myself from crying. Not in front of him. He would suspect. He would be more curious.

But, what would he get if I would tell him my name though?

I was about to take the deal when my phone suddenly rang. It was my Dad.

"Dad." I answered.

"Are you okay? Where are you? It's already late. Your cousins are still here. We are waiting for you."

"I'm sorry about that, Dad. I'm on my way now. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay. Be safe." The call ended.

I looked at him. "I'm sorry. I have to go. Thank you so much." Hurriedly, I took his hand and put the bills on it before getting in the driver's seat.

I felt bad as I got in my car, smiled at him and drove off. I could've just simply told him my name. But I didn't.