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“Here’s hoping he likes our wieners.”
“You’re such a weirdo.” I roll my eyes and laugh.
She is a weirdo, but she’s my weirdo sister, and I’ll fight anyone who tries to hurt her.
Chapter Eleven
Dom
* * *
My heart sinks when I walk into the house and Tess isn’t there. Zane leads me down to the basement, where the washer and dryer are.
“We’re having hot dogs and tots for dinner,” he says.
“Cool. But I don’t want to stay for dinner if it’s not okay with your mom.”
“It’s fine with her.”
I set my tool bag down, trying to keep it casual as I ask, “Does she seem mad at me?”
“You mean over Hannah’s dance thing? Nah, I’m sure she’s over it.”
I’m not as confident as him, but I don’t want to drag him any further into it.
“Okay, let’s get this dryer going.”
The washer and dryer are both old, a mismatched set with ancient-looking dials and a few scratches. I can get the dryer going again, but it’s probably just a matter of time until these appliances crap out for good.
“We’ll start by taking it apart to check a few other things, then we’ll replace the heating element, and then we’ll make sure the exhaust line is clear.”
Zane nods. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
I can’t believe this is the same kid who was hostile to me just a couple of weeks ago. It’s kind of heartbreaking that he wants supportive male figures in this life so much, and he doesn’t seem to have any. Already, I want to tell him that the end of the hours he has to work for me won’t be the end of me wanting to do stuff with him.
His bedroom isn’t a separate room down in the unfinished basement; it’s just a full-size bed on a carpet remnant with a dresser off to the side. It does the job—he has a space of his own. I admire the hell out of Tess for her tenacity as a single mom. She busts her ass, making the best life she can for her kids, but who takes care of her?
“I’ve got a question for you,” Zane says, clearing his throat.
I pass him my drill. “Set that down for me. And sure, what’s up?”
“So...I’m not asking for me or anything, but I have a friend who wants to ask someone out. What’s a good way to do that?”
Ah, he has a friend. I don’t think he’d respond well to me calling him out, so I play along.
“Did your friend say whether this is someone who has shown interest in him?”
“Yeah, definitely. She smiles at him all the time and compliments him. Tells him he’s smart and stuff like that.”
“Cool. So tell him it’s best to do it when he’s alone with her, and it’s best to ask her in person. Not with a text. And a lot of women like a guy who makes them laugh. I’ve had lots of women say yes when I broke out a cheesy pickup line, as long as I make sure she knows I’m being tongue in cheek, you know?”
“Yeah.” He drops his brows, looking confused. “I mean, kind of.”
I stand up, giving him my full attention. “Okay, so you have to be smiling when you use this tactic. It has to be clear you’re not being serious. But you just walk up to her, with your chin up, nice and confident, and say something like, ‘Hey girl, is your name Wi-Fi? Because I think we have a connection.’”
He cringes and laughs. “Really?”
“Yeah, women love a man who doesn’t take himself too seriously. Who makes them laugh. You just give her your most confident smile and say, ‘Hey, is your daddy a beaver? Cause damn.’ And then when she’s laughing and relaxed, you say, ‘When can I take you out?’”
