By Monday, the whole town knew.
That Jesse locke—the man who rebuilt classic engines and had once broken someone's jaw for looking at his brother the wrong way—
was dating me.
His best friend's son.
His former apprentice.
The "kid" who used to show up at his shop with scraped knuckles and a smart mouth.
Only now, I showed up with a collar in my bag.
And Jesse's bite marks still blooming beneath my shirt.
---
The whispers didn't bother me much.
But they bothered him.
Not because he was ashamed.
But because every judgmental stare, every hushed voice—
Reminded him of the years he'd spent trying to prove he wasn't dangerous.
---
The confrontation came at the shop.
Two customers. Older guys. Loud ones.
"Didn't know you hired live-in boys now," one of them said as I passed by, grabbing tools.
Jesse's voice cut through the bay like a blade.
"You've got about three seconds to leave this shop before I remind you how I broke my last wrench."
They laughed. Nervous. But they left.
And Jesse?
He just turned to me.
Eyes burning.
"Too far?"
"Not far enough," I said.
And I kissed him right there—
Grease on my hands.
Oil on his shirt.
The garage silent but for the quiet hum of something finally settling.
---
That night,I slept over,we lay in bed, my head on his chest.
The soft rise and fall of his breath felt like music.
"You ever think about the future?" I asked.
He was quiet a beat too long.
Then:
"Used to terrify me."
"And now?"
He ran his fingers through my hair.
"Now I think… I want it to look a lot like this."
I smiled into his skin.
"Good. 'Cause I'm not planning on going anywhere."
---
He rolled over then, body pinning mine.
Kissed me slow.
The kind of kiss that said:
I'm not good with words.
But I'm getting there.
And I mean every goddamn inch of this.
"Say it," I whispered.
He stared down at me.
Eyes raw. Heart open.
"I love you," Jesse breathed.
I closed my eyes.
Felt it hit like a pulse across my whole chest.
"I love you too."
---
No safe word.
No scene.
Just truth.
And the kind of vow you don't say at an altar—
but in a bed,
with your bodies tangled,
and the rest of the world be damned.