The garage buzzed with the usual noise, the metallic clink of tools and the low rumble of engines. Riley kept her head down, wiping grease from her hands while pretending not to notice the way a few of the guys kept glancing at her.
It had been like this since Marcus’s little talk. She knew word had spread faster than wildfire.
Caleb leaned against the workbench, arms folded across his chest. His dark eyes studied her, sharp and suspicious. “So,” he started, “you gonna tell us what’s going on with you and the hockey boy, or do we have to drag it out of you?
Riley froze for half a second, then forced her shoulders to relax. She grabbed a wrench and tightened a bolt on the bike in front of her.
“There’s nothing going on.
Caleb smirked. “Funny. Because a couple of the guys said they saw
