Chapter 4 4. A TWIST OF FATE

As soon as Claire entered the poorly lit auto repair shop, she sensed it.

A change. A tug. A recollection.

The aroma of motor oil and metal permeated her lungs, while the sound of tools clanging against steel resonated throughout the area. It felt so recognizable, so distinctly linked to an evening she had attempted-and failed-to erase from her memory.

And then, she gasped for air. For there he stood.

Cole Walker.

He positioned himself towards the rear, his wide shoulders taut as he bent over a vehicle engine. Grease stained his muscular forearms, his rough hands holding a wrench, his dark hair brushing gently across his forehead as he toiled.

Claire felt a knot in her stomach. Six months had passed since she had last seen him. Half a year after their initial encounter-when he found her on the roadside in need and took her to his shop, repaired her vehicle -without charge.

All she could manage was to be filled with attitude and a sense of entitlement while being disrespectful. At that time, she had despised him. Or at the very least, that's what she kept telling herself.

Yet even after all this time, he remained in the recesses of her thoughts. It was absurd, honestly. She is currently engaged. To Patrick.

Patrick, who consistently wore sharp designer suits. Patrick, who always kept his hands clean. Patrick, who was solely focused on his own interests. Patrick, who was not Cole.

And regardless of how much effort she put in, she was unable to cease comparing them.

Cole was rugged and unrefined, a man who crafted his existence through hard work. He lacked refinement, wasn't affected. He was genuine.

Cole represented everything utterly different from the world she was used to. He wasn't a stuck-up entitled mogul or a trust-fund baby. He wasn't one of those who donned costly suits and carried the scent of high-end cologne. He didn't have mansions, businesses or cars to brag about. No, Cole was something different altogether-unrefined, robust, and naturally masculine. It made her feel things in places she didn't know had feelings. And that filled her with fear. Or maybe it was attraction.

Yes. She admitted that she was attracted to Cole, even from the first time she laid her eyes on him.

"Claire?" Lena's voice jolted her back to reality. She glanced to see her closest friend observing her, eyes narrowed.

"Are you alright?" Lena inquired. "You just-froze."

Claire made an effort to shrug casually. "It's nothing."

Lena appeared doubtful but refrained from pressing the matter.

At this point, Cole had seen them. He stood up straight and turned to face them completely. Even when stationary, he possessed an aura that drew attention.

He stood tall, exceeding six feet, with broad shoulders and a physique shaped by labor, not by self-indulgence. His dark gray t-shirt hugged his body tightly, making it hard to overlook the sculpted muscles beneath.

Then there was his face.

Defined jawline. Direct nose. Prominent cheekbones. Yet it was his eyes that disturbed her the most. Blue, striking, and enigmatic, they concealed a sort of silent tempest within-a gaze that seemed to penetrate the layers of affluence and entitlement enveloping her, showing no signs of admiration. His dark hair was a bit tousled, as if he had combed through it several times during the day, and a hint of stubble covered his jaw, enhancing the bad-boy, working-class allure that made him seem like he fit perfectly on a magazine cover for trouble.

And then there were his hands-powerful, coarse, and hardened. The type of hands that had labored, battled, existed. The sort of hands that had likely never rested a single day throughout his life.

His deep-set eyes glanced at Claire, and in that fleeting instant, an unvoiced, weighty understanding passed between them.

Then, just as swiftly, his demeanor stiffened, and he focused his gaze on Lena. "What is the issue?"

Lena moved ahead, full of charisma and urgency. "Our car broke down just down the street. We were wondering if anyone here could check it out."

Cole cleaned his hands with a cloth, looking at Claire paused for a moment before speaking. "What's the issue with it?"

Lena let out a dramatic sigh. "Beats me. One moment it was working well, the next, it simply... stopped."

Cole emitted a soft sigh, evidently contemplating if he was sufficiently interested to offer assistance.

Lena clasped her hands. "Please?"

Cole's jaw grew rigid. With a defeated sigh, he threw the cloth onto a workbench. "Alright. Let me see."

As Lena led Cole to where her car was, Claire trailed behind them, trying as hard as she could to look everywhere else except where Cole was.

Cole knelt next to Lena's car, examining the engine as Claire uncomfortably stood by, her arms crossed.

She couldn't decide what was more troubling-the quietness or the way she continued to look at him. And even more troubling? He continued to look back frequently.

Occasionally, when he grabbed a tool or wiped his forehead, his eyes momentarily glanced at her. It wasn't deliberate-at least, she believed it wasn't-but whenever their gazes locked, Claire experienced an odd, disturbing tug in her heart. It was ridiculous. She hardly knew this man. And still, she was aware that he had lingered in her mind more than she would ever confess.

She remembered him while sitting opposite Patrick on their obligatory dates, tuning in to his egocentric monologues.

In the stillness, she often considered him, pondering what his existence was like, what his life had entailed prior to becoming the person he was today.

Why was he still in her head? What was it about Cole Walker that gave her sleepless nights?

"Try it now," Cole said, moving aside.

Lena bent into the vehicle and twisted the key. The engine sputtered, choked, and then burst into action.

She emitted a victorious shout. "Yes! You are a real hero."

Cole just cleaned his hands on his jeans. "You were fortunate. It was merely a faulty connection."

Lena smiled brightly. "Nevertheless, I appreciate it. Honestly."

Claire ultimately discovered her voice. "Yes. Thank you."

Cole faced her, his expression inscrutable. "Don't worry about it, princess."

The nickname was infused with sarcasm, similar to when he first used it, and yet-it sent an odd shiver down her back. She despised that.

Lena grinned slyly between them, evidently observing something, yet she held her tongue. Instead, she dug into her bag and pulled out some money.

She passed it to Cole. "Here. You can keep the change, as a thank you for saving us."

He gazed at her briefly before graciously refusing. "Don't worry. It's the least I can do."

"Seriously? Thanks a lot," Lena exclaimed with enthusiasm.

She slipped into the driver's seat. "Let's go, Claire. Let's move before the universe attempts to mess with us once more."

Claire paused for a moment, but then, with one final look at Cole, she entered the car.

As they drove away from the store, she noticed herself glancing in the rearview mirror. Cole remained in the spot they had left him, observing their departure.

Claire wasn't sure about what occurred just now. However, she was definitely certain about one thing. She wasn't done thinking about him.

While they were driving in silence, Lena eventually talked. "Alright. Spill."

Claire fluttered her eyelids. "What?"

Lena gave her a glance. "Don't 'what' me. Something happened back there. I noticed how the two of you kept gazing at one another."

Claire laughed derisively. "You're just imagining it."

Lena grinned slyly. "Am I?" Claire remained silent. Because she didn't trust herself to say anything.

Lena kept pushing. "Come on Claire. What's really going on? Remember, we promised not to keep secrets from each other."

Claire sighed. Lena was right. They made a promise to never keep secrets from each other and Lena had always kept that promise. It wouldn't be fair if she didn't open up about Cole.

"His name is Cole Walker. I met him six months ago when my car broke down in the middle of nowhere and he helped me."

Lena took her eyes off the road for a second to look at Claire, eyes wide. "You're kidding."

"I wish I was. I don't think I made quite a good first impression, considering the fact that he kicked me out of his shop."

Lena kept her focus on the road. "What did you do Claire? Please don't mess this up. I could literally see the chemistry between you two. And besides he is hot. Smoking, steamy hot."

Claire shook her head in frustration. "I was angry, frustrated, probably looking like a total spoiled brat in my leather boots and Burberry coat. He said I had to learn to maintain my own engine and called me a 'princess.' I felt quite insulted... but still, there was something about him-his voice, the way he didn't care who I was-stuck with me. He fixed my car in ten minutes, refused to take money, and walked back into his garage like it was just another Tuesday."

"I cannot believe you kept this from me. Why didn't you say anything earlier?" Lena said frowning.

Claire covered her face with her hands. "I don't know. I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to do. How to feel."

She raised her head up to look at Lena. "There's something about him, Lena. I haven't been able to get him out of my mind since. He's so masculine. So different from every man I have ever met and dated. He makes me feel things." Claire whispered the last part.

Lena glanced at Claire, then turned her eyes back to the road, her voice gentler now. "Do you want to explore those feelings?"

Claire blushed. "Today, it was just one moment... but it meant more than all the dinners I've had with Patrick. And that frightens me."

"Maybe it should excite you instead."

A moment of silence occurred. The distant city lights started to twinkle as they approached home.

Claire extended her arm and placed her hand on Lena's. "Thanks... for bringing laughter into my day. For pulling me out. For being the only one who sees me."

Lena smiled, "Forever, darling. And next time? I want all the details right after they happen."

Claire laughed, reclining in her chair, her heart feeling somewhat lighter.

******************************************************************

The soft growl of the engine disappeared into the background, and a hush enveloped the shop.

Cole Walker stood near the garage, arms folded across his chest, gazing at the road long after the shiny black car vanished from sight. The moon shone brightly in the sky, illuminating the oil-smeared pavement, but all Cole could focus on was her.

Claire Dunlop. She had returned.

His jaw clenched as he gradually removed the black cloth from his back pocket and cleaned his hands, even though the grease was already set. His fingers still felt a tingle-he couldn't tell if it was from the tools or how his heart had reacted to her presence once more.

He had not expected her. He'd convinced himself she was merely a temporary memory. Something beautiful and shattered that life had thrown in his way once and snatched back just as swiftly. Yet, there she was today.

Same tempestuous gaze. Same aura of unapproachable sophistication. Yet also distinct.

She didn't look like a girl who had everything.

She looked tired. Trapped. Sad, almost.

And yet so incredibly beautiful it caused his chest to hurt.

Cole reentered the store, the solid metal door slamming closed behind him. The atmosphere within was heated and reeked of gasoline, motor oil, and scorched rubber-the fragrance of familiarity, of labor, of the life he had crafted himself.

Yet abruptly, everything seemed insufficient. He approached his workbench and took a seat on the edge, picking up a chilled soda from the mini-fridge. He took a deep gulp and gazed at the wall, allowing silence to envelop him like an old blanket.

His thoughts echoed each moment: how her voice had wavered a bit when she thanked him. The manner in which her eyes had glanced at him, staying longer than needed, as if she recalled as well.

He swept his hand across his face.

"Six bloody months," he murmured quietly. "And she still gets under my skin."

He attempted to dismiss her image-strived to concentrate on Hailey, his girlfriend, who had visited the shop earlier that week, overcompensating to seem like all was well between them. Yet, even at that moment, with her arms wrapped around him, his mind wandered to Claire.

Claire, with her diamond-like voice and soft gaze. Claire, donning the pricey shoes that evidently weren't meant for her, standing in his world like she was trying to remember what it felt like to breathe.

He hated how fast his heart had pounded when she walked in.

He hated how much he didn't hate it.

"Don't act foolish," he told himself. "She is engaged. Wearing a ring, no less."

He didn't know why he hated seeing that ring on her finger. It didn't feel right.

However, there was something in her gaze. Something unspoken. A glimpse of the girl from months past-the one unfamiliar with pumping gas or deciphering engine lights, yet showed calm resilience when her life came to a halt.

He clasped his hands together, feeling a sudden unease. He wanted to go for a ride. Hit a wall. Anything to calm the turmoil within him.

"Why now?" he murmured.

Because fate wasn't fair. It didn't pause for the perfect moment. It simply cast individuals into your existence like chaotic flames and challenged you to ignite. Claire had been a flame. Now, she was a blaze reignited within his soul. And even if he knew it was dangerous... he wasn't sure he wanted to put it out.