Through all it, I could never figure out what it was that we were doing. Were we friends that dated or were we a couple that acted like friends? Needless to say, I was completely confused. There were moments when Devin acted like he could barely keep his hands off of me and then there were moments when he treated me like one of his buddies.

It wasn’t long until I was wondering exactly what he would label us as and no matter how many times I’d heard from friends that it was a bad idea to ask him, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to be involved with Devin… I wanted it more than anything. The walled-in parts of me wanted to peek around the corner and pull him into my world completely, but I couldn’t do it, not until I was sure that he was in the same place emotionally as me.

I decided to leave work early. I thought it would be a good idea to stop by Devin’s house and have a talk with him. It needed to be done. I was rapidly falling hard for him and I really needed to know if I should allow these feelings to blossom, or nip them in the bud.

I turned my radio up and kept psyching myself up. This was it, I had to do this.  I had to talk to Devin. I needed to know exactly what we were doing. I know all girls want things clearly defined for them and that scares guys to death, but now, for the first time in my life, I understood exactly how much that definition meant. Were we just friends or were we more?

I mean seriously, we are adults. I should be able to just ask Devin where he sees this whole thing going, right? Whatever he said wouldn’t matter.  I just needed to know how much of to invest into this whole thing, and if by some chance he just wanted to be friends, then I’d be the best damn friend he ever had.

I pulled up to the garage instead of his house since I knew he’d be working. He must have heard my car because he walked outside looking all sweaty, greasy, and just plain sexy. Dear Lord, please have mercy on me. I silently prayed for the strength to keep my hands to myself.

I didn’t turn my car off.  Instead, I stepped out and closed the door behind me. I didn’t want to get all comfortable just in case he was too busy to sit and chat for a few.

“Hey, baby. I didn’t know you were coming over. I would’ve cleaned up a bit.” He attempted to clean some of the dirt and grease from his clothes.

If only he knew how hot he looked all covered in grease.

“Do you have a minute to talk? If you’re busy, it can wait. I know I should’ve called but I really need to talk to you about something kind of import….”

“Ssshhh,” he cut me off.

He had a confused, questioning look on his face as he stared off into to space.

“Is something wrong? Devin?” He cut me off again when he held up his finger, telling me to be quiet.

He walked around to the hood of my car.

“Pop your hood, sweetie.”

“What? Are you listening to me?”

“Yes—well, not really, but I will. First, pop your hood.”

I walked back to the driver’s side door of my car, opened the door, then reached down and popped the hood of my car.

“Happy?” I asked sarcastically with a smile.

He lifted my hood and then started digging around.

“What are you doing?” I leaned down over the open hood where he was digging.

“You need a tune-up and an oil change. Don’t you hear that?” He turned his head to smile at me and a lone streak of grease on his cheek caught my attention. I almost reached out and wiped it away. “Pull your car into the garage and I’ll take care of it.”

“What? No. Devin, I came here to talk not to get my car fixed. It’s fine, I’ll take it and have it fixed somewhere later.”

“Like hell you will! First of all, I can talk and change the plugs and oil at the same time. Second of all, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t take care of my girl’s car? I am a mechanic, you know.” He smiled sweetly at me.

His girl.

He jumped into my car and shut the door. I watched as he pulled it into the garage and started jacking it up. I couldn’t say or do anything. I was his girl. What the hell does that mean anyway? Shannon’s my girl, but that doesn’t mean I want have sex with her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s pretty and all, but she’s not really my type.

His comment left me even more confused than I was before. Damn him and his confusing everything! That and his sexy everything and damn his seductive everything. Just damn him!

I followed him into the garage. I couldn’t very well bring up the whole “what the hell are we?” subject now that he called me his girl. That could mean anything. I could be his female friend that he’d hook up with his fat buddy named, Bubba, or I could be his girlfriend that he’d do naughty things with at night and daydream about all day.