I spent too many hours thinking about CJ Davis. I thought about him when I cleaned my house. I thought of him when I was in my car. I thought of him when I was in the shower, when I was in my bed at night.

I’d laid my cards on the table with him. I’d told him outright I wanted to wait until we were no longer in a professional relationship so we could possibly find ourselves in a personal one . . . a physical one.

And holy hell, I wanted him in a very physical way.

It was easy enough to tell him with a belly full of bourbon bravado. I’d put my hand to his neck, feeling the strength of his jaw, and it had taken every cell of self-control not to kiss him. Even sober, I admitted to remembering what I’d said. I wouldn’t deny it.

I couldn’t deny it.

There was something about him that picked at my subconscious, that tugged at my heart. And he didn’t say no.

So three weeks . . . we just had to wait three weeks.

I meant what I said about wanting to help him. And I would put that above everything else. I wanted to help him make a better life for himself, and he needed to know that was a priority over my wanting to kiss him. If I had to choose one over the other, it’d kill me, but I’d help him before I ruined a chance at a better life for him.

So many people had turned their backs on him⁠—teachers, welfare, his family⁠—and I needed him to know I wouldn’t do that. Even if we did start something personal and it didn’t work out, I still wouldn’t give up on him.

I gave myself until Thursday, when he was due to come into my office, to work out what the hell I was going to say to him.

But I didn’t get until Thursday. Because first thing Tuesday morning, I’d just sat down at my desk and took my first sip of coffee when Sheryl knocked on my door. “You got an appointment with a CJ Davis first thing?” As the office manager, she would have had him down for a Thursday visit . . .

My heart galloped and I tried not to give anything away. “Ah, yeah. It was a late change, sorry. Is he here?”

She nodded. “Yep. You can finish your coffee if you want. I’m sure he can wait five minutes.”

“No, it’s okay.” I stood up and met her at the door. We had meeting rooms and interview rooms for clients, but I wanted to keep this as private as I could. “I’ll bring him into my office. I have some apprenticeship stuff online I want to show him.”

“Okay,” she said, obviously not really caring either way.

I followed her out to the reception area, and there he was. Sitting in a chair, his long legs spread wide in front of him. He wore work boots, black jeans, a grey shirt, and a black coat. My God, he could be the poster child for gorgeous bad boys. I fought a smile as we made eye contact, and he smirked as he stood up.

I cleared my throat. “Ah, we’ll meet in my office today,” I said for Sheryl’s benefit.

CJ shrugged and followed me down the hall to my office. I stood aside and closed the door behind him. He took a seat across from my desk and smiled at me as I sat down.

“You’re in early this week. Everything okay?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“Which part?”

He let out a slow breath, and with a courage I couldn’t begin to fathom, he said, “I wanna get my mechanics ticket. And I wanna get my licence.” He swallowed hard. “And I want to learn to read.”

Well, holy shit.

After a moment of shock, I grinned at him. “Absolutely.” But then I wondered why the change of heart. “Did something happen?”

His eyebrows knitted together. “Not really. Well, when you dropped me home . . . I walked inside and my dad started yelling cuz he was outta cigarettes, like it was my fault. And I kinda realised that if nothing changes, nothing changes. Know what I mean? Like if I want things to be different, I need to make ’em different.”

I had to grip the arms of my desk chair so I didn’t get up and hug him. “I know exactly what you mean.” I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face. “I’m really excited for this, so thank you. It can’t have been easy.”

He shrugged. “Well, what you said about how long Mr Barese’ll have the shop for kinda hit home too. If he were to shut up shop tomorrow, I’d have nothin’.”

I nodded slowly. I was glad my words had some impact on him, but I hated that he was doing this out of a sense of helplessness. I picked up a pen and started making a list. “Okay, so we need a plan. A list of priorities and what we need to get started. I’ll start contacting the local community college and see what I can do about the recognised prior learning. We’ll need to get you enrolled, so there’ll be some paperwork but I can help you with that.”

He shifted in his seat. “I have some money saved. I was keepin’ it in case Pops needed something medical, but I can use that.”

I paused. “Let me see what grants I can find. There are initiative-based or incentive grants for people like you.”

He stared at me. “People like me?”

God, he was always on the defensive. “Yes. People who are trying to make changes in their lives. People who want better for themselves and their families. I might be able to get the enrolment fees covered, that’s what I’m saying.”

He seemed to relax a little once he realised I wasn’t having a shot at him. “Oh, okay.”

“Look CJ, I have to tell you something.” Here went nothing. “I need you to know this won’t be easy. There’ll be times you’ll wanna quit, and there’ll be times you’ll wanna pull your hair out. But it will be worth it. There is a goal at the end, and there is a finishing line. It’s not forever. But everyone involved will want to help. It’s their job to help.”

He flinched. Just barely, but I saw it. “Like it’s your job to help.”

“Well, yes, but I meant the teachers and program administrators. Those people. But that brings me to the next part . . .” I took a breath and a whopping leap of faith. “No matter what happens between us, it doesn’t affect or change what happens with you, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I meant what I said about the three-week thing.” I gave him a second to catch on. He did. “Three weeks and you’re no longer on my books, and then if I happen to run into you in a bar one time and we start up a conversation that leads to . . . other things, then we’re not breaking any rules, right?”

His lips twitched. “Right.”

I grinned at him. “I’m glad we’re on the same page with that. Anyway, if for whatever reason you decide I’m too sexy or too good in bed and you think you’d rather part ways, then our work agreement⁠—getting you qualified and licenced⁠—that doesn’t change. Or stop, or whatever. You don’t lose that if you’d rather we just be friends, okay?”

“Too good in bed?” He pursed his lips together like he might bust up laughing at any second.

I chuckled and nodded. “Stranger things have happened.”

“I bet they have.”

We sat there and stared at each other, both of us smiling for a moment. “How long are you in town for?”

“Just a bit. Gotta grab a few things. Mr Barese loaned me his car.”

I picked up my pen and added ‘Roads and Maritime Services and car licence’ to the list. “RMS for your car licence too then.”

CJ sighed. “I ain’t drivin’ around with no stupid L plates.”

“Yes you will. I’ll help you get your hours up. You can learn in my car.”

“In Roller Girl?”

“What’s wrong with her? She’s a good car!”

He rolled his eyes, but he fought a smile.

“How’s Pops going?” I asked.

“Yeah, good. It’s a bit harder for him to stay outta my old man’s way, but he’s okay.”

“Do you think your dad might find work? That’ll get him out of the house a bit.”

CJ snorted. “He ain’t ever worked a day in his life.”

Oh.

“Well, hopefully the dust’ll settle soon and things’ll be easier.”

He raised one eyebrow but didn’t reply to that. He let out a sigh. “He doesn’t know I’m doing this.”

“Getting qualified?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why not? What will he do when he finds out?”

“Probably laugh at me. Tell me to stop thinkin’ I’m better than I am.”

My stomach tightened. “CJ, no matter what he says, you know that’s not true. You are better than you think you are. And you deserve a shot at this.”

He looked down at his lap and eventually gave me a nod. “I want to be.”

Bloody hell. I wanted to hug him again. “You’ll nail this. You watch. You’ll pass everything and the only thing you’ll be left wondering about is why you didn’t do it sooner.”

When he looked up, his dark eyes were vulnerable, like the true CJ Davis was exposed within them. “Because ain’t no one believed in me before now.”

All of a sudden I had a lump in my throat and my eyes burned. Fuck. “They must have been blind.”

He shrugged and it seemed that our talking time was done. “So, what do I do now?”

“Can you come back today? In about an hour or so? Whenever you’re finished doing whatever it is you came to town for. I should have our full list done by then.”

“Yeah, okay.” He stood up and walked to the door.

“CJ?”

He stopped, turned, and waited for me to speak.

“Thank you.”

He gave a nod and opened the door.

“And don’t get busted by the cops.”

He smiled and disappeared down the hall.

I threw my pen down and leaned back in my chair. Sheryl appeared a moment later. “Everything okay?”

I was grinning. “He’s agreed to an apprenticeship.” I left out the part where he didn’t have a licence in case she saw him driving away. “And to getting help with reading and writing.”

Her smile matched mine. “A good start to the day!”

“The best.”

* * *

By the time CJ came back into my office, I had a complete list of things we needed to get done. And it was a long list.

He sat at my desk again, smelling of mint and cigarettes. A mixture I was getting to like. “Did you have lunch yet?”

“Nah. I’ll grab something when I get home.”

“Okay, so I made some progress,” I started, tapping the notepad in front of me. “It looks a little daunting, but I promise it’s not that bad.”

He didn’t look at the list. He looked at me and offered a sarcastic, “Great.”

“Do you have a birth certificate?”

He scratched his head. “Yeah, I think so. Somewhere. I think Pops has it stashed some place.”

“Well, we’re gonna need that to get a photo ID card at the RMS. It’ll help when getting your licences. Oh, and we’ll need a utility bill, like power or phone. With your name and address.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll take you into the RMS and we can get that done anytime. No worries. You’ll need to sign your own name, but that’s it.”

“I can sign my own fucking name.”

I ignored his tone. “Then we can apply to sit the motorbike rider licence. There are two three-and-a-half hour sessions with an instructor, here in town. It’s pretty much just to see if you can ride and obey road rules. You’ll pass that, no problem.”

He nodded.

“Then there’s a test. It’ll be in the RMS office, on a computer where you answer random questions. You’re allowed to have a helper or a translator, someone from their office who will read you the question and answer only what you tell them. They don’t answer for you, they just read the questions and you tell them the answer.”

He let out a deep breath.

“You’ll have your L’s for three months, but you’re allowed to ride on public streets by yourself. Then you can sit for the provisional test. It’s another six-hour skills test, then another computer test where you can have the assistant again.”

He blinked.

“Now, for the driver licence for a car, it’s a bit different. It’s your birthday in four months, right?” His date of birth was in his files, so I knew it was in October.

“Ah, yeah? So?”

“If you sit for a driver licence over the age of twenty-five, you don’t have to do the 120 hours and twelve months on your learners. The test is a bit different but I can help you study for that, and in four months, you’ll nail it.”

He puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and it’s kinda daunting straight up. But we’ll tackle them all one at a time, and you’ll be fine.”

He swallowed hard. “And the apprenticeship?”

“Well, I spoke to the boss of the automotive department at the local TAFE. The year has already started; they’re about halfway through. But, if you enrol part-time, you can join anytime of the year. And, because I reckon you’ll qualify for recognised prior learning, you’ll have it done by the end of the year.”

He was starting to look a little overwhelmed.

“The downside is the fees are the full amount, whether it takes you the full three years or six months. And it’s 2,900 bucks.”

The colour drained from his face.

“But⁠—⁠” I held up my hand. “There’s an office in town called the Support for Adult Australian Apprentices, and I’ve requested a meeting with them because they run subsidies and they’re gonna call me back. I can’t guarantee a full waiver of fees, but I’ll do my best.”

CJ licked his lips and leaned back in his seat. He looked defeated already. “I can’t afford that kind of money.”

“I know. We’ll work something out. Each TAFE has a payment program as well, so we have options. Let’s just see what the Support office says. I want to meet with them personally so I can push your case rather than just a phone call.”

He was quiet for a minute. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“It is. But like I said, one thing at a time. Isn’t there a saying about how even Everest was conquered by taking one step at a time?”

He snorted. “How the fuck would I know?”

I laughed at that. “But you’re still keen, yeah? We’re gonna do this?”

“We?” He tilted his head. “You mean me?”

“Well, yes. But I’ll help you.”

He let out an almighty sigh and his head fell back. “God, I dunno.”

“One thing at a time, CJ. You don’t have to agree to everything right now. Just say you’ll get your rider licence first. Then I know you won’t get picked up for that.”

He gave me a bit of a growl before he sighed. “And the reading?”

“There are a few options. The best one, I think, is to have a tutor once a week. You can meet them here, not at home, for like an hour a week.”

He made a face.

“Or you can go sit in a classroom with ten other people. Or you can do it all online.”

His frown deepened. “All those options suck.”

“I know. But I think a private tutor lesson would suit you better. It’s one-on-one, and no one has to know. They’ll probably give you some homework to do, but⁠—”

“Homework?”

“Well, yeah.”

CJ sighed. “Jesus Christ.”

“If you sign up for it while you’re still on parole, it’s free. If you wait three weeks, you’ll have to pay.”

He looked at me like it was all my fault and like he was about to say it was all just too damn hard. I pushed my seat out from my desk. “You hungry? I’m starving. Let’s grab some lunch.” I didn’t really give him a choice. I just held my door open and waited for him to join me. There was a café on the next block, and I figured the fresh air and walking time would be a good buffer.

The walk was short and I didn’t mind the silence between us. I’d given him a lot to think about. He crammed his hands in his pockets and kind of hunched over as we walked, keeping his head down. I guessed it was him making himself as invisible as possible and it really bothered me that this was his default. I’d have rather he held his head up high so the world could see what a great guy he was. That he’d overcome the kind of adversity and shit people rarely survived. That, against everything life had thrown at him, he was still striving to be better.

Not many people could admit to that.

I held the door open for him. “After you.” He rolled his eyes but almost smiled, though when we got to the counter, he hung back. “It’s my shout. Pick whatever you want.”

Then it occurred to me, he couldn’t read the menu. God, I was such an idiot.

The display fridge had a range of pre-made sandwiches though, so I tried to cover my faux pas. “These look all right. Is there anything you don’t eat? Not allergic to anything?”

“Um . . . nah, not allergic to anything. I’m not that hungry . . .”

He said he hadn’t had lunch, so I didn’t believe him. “Let me buy you lunch. It’s just a sandwich. Then we can talk about where you want to start on that list.” I pointed back to the sandwiches. “There’s ham, cheese, and tomato? Or chicken, mustard, and cheese?”

His answer was quiet. “Ham. Thanks.”

I ordered one ham and one chicken sandwich and two coffees, and we sat at a table. He was quiet as we ate, and I wondered if I’d pushed him too hard. I knew it was a lot to take in, and he was probably so overwhelmed right now.

I tapped his foot with mine, making him look up at me. “Sorry if I threw you in the deep end earlier. I know you’re probably thinking it’s too much, but I promise you, you’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?” He shook his head. “What if you set up all these things for me and I fail?”

“You won’t fail. It won’t be easy, but you’ll get through it. You’re smart, CJ. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He rolled his eyes and mumbled, “I didn’t even finish the seventh grade. They wanted to put me in some special learning class because I didn’t read too good, so I bailed. Pops tried to help me a bit, though, but it was just easier to work with my hands. Fixin’ cars is easy. I don’t need to read much, and when I do, Mr Barese helps me with it.”

“There are a lot of people who can’t read or write too well, CJ. A lot. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. The fact you’ve got where you are is a testament to how smart you are. And brave.”

“Brave?” He laughed at that. “Yeah, right.”

“Hell yes, brave. I can’t even imagine walking into a store or a supermarket and not being able to tell the difference between toothpaste and haemorrhoid cream.”

He finally broke with a genuine eye-crinkling smile. “Can’t say I ever had that problem.”

“I’m glad. Because it’d be bad enough tasting butt-cream, but applying toothpaste to an already sore arse would be hell.”

He chuckled again, then leaned in and whispered, “I did get some studded condoms by mistake once. That were interesting.”

I almost choked on my coffee. “I bet it was.”

He lifted his coffee to his lips. “The second time I got them wasn’t by mistake.”

I laughed so loud people looked at me. But I noticed his cup was already empty, so I finished my coffee and stood up. “Come on, I better get back to work.”

As soon as we stepped outside, he stopped to light a cigarette. I was gonna have a shot at him but figured we’d made good ground and I didn’t want to end on a sour note.

He took a long drag and blew it out skyward. “No anti-smoking comment today?”

“Figured I’d save it. Let you enjoy your cancer-causing, artery-clogging cigarette in peace.”

One corner of his lip curled into a smile; his silence was a happy one. We started the walk back to my office, but slower this time. Less hurried, like neither of us wanted our time together to end.

“So, you’re not working Thursday, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, how about I pick you up and we make a start on that list. First things first, a photo ID card and some rider licence application forms, we can grab the road rules booklet, and book you in for the next rider course.”

He blew smoke out his nose and stared at me. “Hmm.”

“I can pick you up from Mr Barese’s shop if you don’t want your old man knowing.”

He squinted one eye as he took another drag of his cigarette.

I almost had him.

“Just bring your birth certificate, if you can find it. And a power or phone bill. Say, ten o’clock?”

We stopped at the front door to my work. “You ain’t gonna let me get out of it, are ya?”

“Well, it’s your choice . . .”

He rolled his eyes and started walking toward Mr Barese’s car. He opened the door and just before he got in, he called out, “Ten o’clock.”

My heart did some stupid skipping thing and I grinned like a fool. And, though I couldn’t be one hundred per cent sure, as CJ drove away, it looked like he was smiling too.