four

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"Don't you dare drop." I warn the paper bag balancing on my arm. It slides the slightest bit but doesn't fall.

The flimsy tray laying flat on my other palm begins to warm my skin, the coffee cups radiating their heat. I knew this was too nice of a gesture for me to follow through with. I knew it.

Shuffling my way carefully, throughout the gravel driveway that seems to go for miles, I decide that this is the one and only time I will do this. For my sister— always. But for the guys— never again. It brings a scowl to my face that I'd even done it now.

One arm is skilfully balancing singular bags of sweets, the other hand home to coffees. My laced up boots crunch along the stones and I fear I'll start to break out into a sweat if the door doesn't appear in my vision soon. One. Two. Three seconds kind of soon.

I let out a relieved huff, "Oh, thank fuck." Seeing the garage, seeing the large roller door all the way up and the guys filed amongst one another.

They each work at their own station, on their own assigned bikes. I smile, appreciating seeing the guys hard at work in their navy coveralls. So many of them. In uniform. Disciplined for the moment. It's a sight.

I stay to the left, where I'm properly hidden from their line of sight, and I keep my awkward shuffle towards the reception door I know my sister will be behind.

With a weird manoeuvre, my side pressed up against the door, I wiggle my hand to clutch onto the handle as I then turn it. The bright eyes of my sister pop up from behind the desk, she shoots up straight away, eyeing my armful of things.

"You've outdone yourself, Bea." She excitedly screeches, rushing over to me and taking the tray of coffees. "Thanks." I breathe, able to secure the sweets with both hands now.

She swivels and places the tray on the ledge of the desk, turning back around and grabbing some of the paper bags from me, laying them beside the coffee.

"I said I'd do it, didn't I?" I question, blowing upwards, aiming to rid the stray piece of hair that had come out of my messy, very rushed plait. She physically slumps her arms over the desk, "I've had a day." She sighs.

"It's not even lunchtime yet." I remind her, though her words speak truth all the same.

Her finger points to the closed door on the right, leading towards the garage, "Those boys drive me insane. I give them routine, they shit themselves. I become messy, they complain. I don't know what they want from me." She itches the spot near her brow.

My lips frown, "You do your best." I reassure her.

"I goddamn know I do my best." She playfully snaps, rubbing at her temples. "You know deep down, they listen to you. They do. They don't know how to do all of this on their own, they like to be arrogant and not realise that, but seriously, they can't run this joint without you."

Her eyes squint. "Repeat that, please?"

I grin, telling her slowly, sounding out each syllable, "They can't run this joint without you."

Her lips roll as she smiles, nodding her head.

"Ain't that the truth, baby." It's Dash who yanks on the door so quickly and enters the room. I turn over my shoulder to meet his gaze. It's strong. With sweet eyes like those. Deep brown orbs stare back at me. Those little sleepers in each ear. That stern jaw and gorgeous european nose.

His tall figure stands, hands on his hips as he rakes his eyes over me, "Little Bea, such wise words comin' from such a hot mouth." He points towards Sonnet, "Net, honey, you're amazin'. Best fuckin' girl to do the job."

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