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He grins, though something seems slightly off about it.
“You look like you’re having fun.”
I nod, taking a much-needed sip from my water bottle before answering.
“A blast. I actually helped. The last time I offered to help with something like this, I was stuck off to the side at a table checking tools in and out.”
Then I point at the unfinished structure, the exterior frame in place though still missing a roof, which is what Andy’s roofer friend will begin working on this afternoon.
“Look at that bitch! I helped with that!”
This time, when Boyd smiles at me, it feels more genuine, and I revel in his attention.
It’s weird realizing we haven’t talked in only a few hours and I already started to miss his eyes on me. That look of his has become familiar and wanted in such a short period of time.
“Thanks so much for your help, guys,” Andy says, walking over to where Boyd and I are seated on a shaded set of steps off the back of the original One Stop structure. “Seriously, I never imagined all the walls going up in one morning.”
“I had a blast,” I say before taking a massive bite of my sandwich.
“If you need more hands with any of the next steps, count Bishop and me in again,” Boyd says.
“What if I want Ruby to help?”
I freeze, mid-chew, the food in my mouth keeping me from saying anything in response, though I’m not sure what I’d say anyway.
Why would he want me to help again?
When I look from Andy, who has a smile on his face, to Boyd, who is glaring at Andy with that same look from earlier, I realize this is something else entirely.
I frown.
Andy’s comment about him and Boyd having history rings through my mind, and my frown deepens.
I don’t like feeling like Andy is using me to make Boyd jealous, and now that I’m taking the time to look, it seems like that’s exactly what’s going on.
Maybe I’m not the fastest mind in the mix, standing next to a business owner and an MIT grad, but I’m not stupid.
“I don’t like that you’re talking about me like I’m not here,” I say, pulling Andy’s attention away from Boyd and over to where I’m glaring at him. “Or how you’re intentionally baiting someone you’re supposed to be friends with, a guy who took hours out of his vacation and family time to help you do backbreaking work.”
Immediately, Andy’s expression morphs into one of contrition. I don’t know him well enough to be certain of whether or not it’s genuine, but I also know it doesn’t really matter.
Andy isn’t really my concern. Boyd, though…he has quickly become someone I want to spend my time with, and the last thing I want to do is make him think I’m playing some sort of game.
Andy lets out an uncomfortable laugh and palms the back of his neck, the hat on his head shading his face as he looks off to the side.
“You’re right.” Then he looks back at Boyd. “Sometimes I forget we’re not in high school anymore.”
Something unspoken passes between them before they shake hands and Andy wanders off to do something construction-y.
When I look up at Boyd, I find his eyes on mine, and they’re scorching, though laced with something that looks like humor as well.
What’s that called?
Humorlust? Like wanderlust but funny? I don’t know if that’s a thing, but it should be.
We don’t say anything else, each of us finishing up our sandwiches and waters before saying our goodbyes and heading over to where Hank is parked along the side of the road.
He opens my door for me, and I hop in, pausing with my seatbelt when I realize he isn’t moving to close the door.
