This chapter is a little shorter, so apologies for that!
Big thank you to maniacalmuse for beta'ing it for me. Love you, babe!

( I played with it a little more after she was done, so all mistakes are on me)

Chapter 4

"Okay, what do we have here today?" I ask, talking to myself as I eye the impressive vehicle in front of us. My long, blond ponytail sways behind me as I walk.

"Ford F-150 Raptor, 2020 decked out with a panda paint-job and the biggest fucking wheels they can fit under that beast," I go on. Emmett bursts out laughing, his eyes on me, clearly amused. My hand glides over the glossy, white hood. The clearly custom paint job is impeccable.

"Panda paint job?" he asks, confusion written all over his handsome face.

"Yeah, the white body and black details, the matt black rims... It's cute though, although I bet this baby is the ultimate compensation car." I settle a hand on my waist and walk around the car to the driver's side. I open the door and search for the handle that opens the hood.

"Compensating and a complete and utter pig." I scrunch up my nose, taking in the chaotic, littered inside of the car. The car still smells like leather, so it can't be old, even though the passenger's seat was filled with protein-bar wrappers and almost-empty bottles of water piled up on the floor. What a waste of a beautiful Ford. It makes me want to weep, beg the car Gods for forgiveness on the owner's behalf.

"Compensating pig?" Emmett crosses his arms in front of his chest, his huge arms making the fabric around them strain, catching my eyes immediately. I spot black lines coming out of his sleeves and wonder what hides underneath his clothes. His ocean blues glisten in the harsh, fluorescent lighting as he stares me down. He almost looks offended, somehow.

"Yeah." I round back to the front of the car, meeting Emmett there.

"I mean the size of this thing is astronomical, so I bet whoever drives it has one hell of a tiny penis. I'm talking micro-sized, peeing in stalls instead of urinals." I say. Emmett can't contain his laughter, causing Jake to turn his head and arch a brow, questioning the situation. I dismiss Jake and his curiosity with an eye-roll.

"Also, his mommy clearly never taught him to take care of his stuff, so he probably came from money and never had to care for anything," I state, clearly judging the owner of this truck. "He probably didn't even pay for this beauty himself," I add, admiring the pearlescent gloss topcoat that finished up the stellar paint-job. That must have cost the owner a fucking fortune.

Emmett takes a deep sigh and throws an arm around my shoulder. I don't flinch or freeze, which makes me feel all kinds of unexpected things. Instead, a flutter swirls around in my stomach, and my heart starts pounding faster. Emmett's arm feels warm and he pulls me closer, lips inches away when he whispers in my ear. My skin tingles where his breath touches it. I almost shudder at the sensation.

"Let me tell you something. My mommy made me clean my room every Tuesday after school religiously. I'd been moving my stuff for three days straight before I was able to throw myself down on a mattress in my garage. I spent two nights sleeping in my car, which explains the fucking mess."

My eyes widen, and I feel embarrassed. It's his car.

"Besides, I've been in the military for a very long time, and the money I got for my last, long mission in Iraq went straight to this four-wheeled beast."

"Also"—he lowers his voice even more—"it's not at all compensating, sweetheart. It's a fucking warning, don't take it lightly." He takes his arm away and I instantly feel myself grow colder. Emmett looks smug, smiling like a complete idiot, dimples coming out of hiding from beneath the scruff on his face. Damn, he's so cocky.

"It's your car?" I ask, baffled. I feel the sudden need to apologize for being so judgemental. I'm never like this, usually, but he seems to make the feisty inside of me want to come out and play.

"Yeah, she needed a check-up, figured I might as well test the skills of my new colleagues." Emmett turns and gathers some tools before we get started on his car.

We work in almost silence for about an hour and a half, before the guilt eats me alive. I have to say something, anything before Emmett gets the wrong impression of me.

"I'm sorry, Emmett." He looks down at me while I'm under the car, my ponytail dragging over the tiled floor. My voice sounds a little muffled, and I'm glad he can't see the scowl on my face as I wait, brace myself for some confrontational words. Instead of being angry, he pats my shin and drags me from under the car. The wheels of the low-profile creeper roll smoothly and I stare up at him, making sure my hair isn't caught in them before I sit up, legs on either side of the contoured plastic.

"Hey, it's fine." Emmett chuckles, squatting down, the cotton of his overalls straining against his muscular thighs. "I get why they call you Spice, though," he says. I take the hand he's holding out for me to grab before he pulls me up. Emmett's eyes peer around the shop, looking at each of the guys in their workspace.

"Do, ah... you want to grab a coffee after work sometime?" he asks, suddenly appearing nervous.

Jake walks by and overhears Emmett, wolf-whistling as he halts in front of the Ford truck, grinning wildly, white teeth against his tanned skin.

"Nice try, new guy." Jake laughs. "You do know Spice's a cat lady, right?" I want to slap the grin off his face because he's being an ass. My cheeks heat up from within, and I stuff my hands in the front pocket of my suit.

"Oh neat, I used to have two cats myself, growing up." Emmett beams. Jake shakes with laughter and I snicker, knowing the hidden message behind Jacob's words. He's so damn predictable with the innuendo comments. The guys will tease Emmett for months after this.

"Every straight, hot-blooded man loves cats, right?" Jake asks loudly, causing both Paul and Garrett to join in laughing. My face feels hot as hell and I kinda feel sorry for Emmett. He's going to be hearing this one for a while.

"Ignore Jake, he lacks attention," I say, making them all stop fucking around and start working again. I lean down to grab the tools I left on the floor. As the guys all get back to their post, and it's just us two again, I lower my voice and smile.

"I'd love to go have coffee. But as friends, okay?" Something nags at me in the pit of my stomach as we exchange phone numbers later that day.

I shouldn't feel this way.

The confusion is REAL!
How do you think the spark will fly between Emm and Rose?

Thanks for reading!

If you love a good Emmett and Rosalie story, go check out 'Show Me Your Tatts' by my main squeeze, maniacalmuse. It's hot, sexy, fun... Everything I love!

xoxo