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“Bedrooms are up there.” She waves toward the staircase. “But whatever you do, don’t go on the stairs. They’re a bit iffy still. Sawyer fell through one of the steps when we carried the last of the old furniture downstairs.”
“How many rooms are there?” Ryker asks.
“Five bedrooms with attached bathrooms upstairs, and the master suite down there at the back of the house.”
“That’s a lot of house,” he remarks, and looks around. “Good bones, by the looks of it. Hardwood floors?”
“Eventually,” Rachel says. “Hopefully. There’s linoleum everywhere, so I have no idea what condition the floors might be in under that. We’ve only checked a few places, but it seems promising. The kitchen is a bust, though. It’s completely ruined there. Water damage and so on. We haven’t figured out what to do with that yet.”
Ryker takes a thoughtful look around. “Considering how old this place is, there’s a chance the subfloor is in decent shape. You can probably try turning that into a finished floor.” He glances toward me. “What?” Ryker asks in response to my raised brows.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Didn’t know you were so into renovating.”
He shrugs. “I like architecture. And it’s a good house. Federal style, right?” He directs that to Rachel again.
I pretend to cough while I say, “Nerd.”
He throws me a look, his lips twitching, while he and Rachel fall down the rabbit hole of discussing floors and windowsills and French doors and whatever else their eyes land on while Rach clues him in on her and Sawyer’s plans with the place.
“Rach!” Sawyer calls from somewhere.
“Just a sec!” she yells back. “Okay, we have to get rid of all the crap on this floor by tomorrow, cause that’s when the plumber comes to inspect the damage. The plan is we’ll put it in the shed behind the house and some of it will go in the pantry by the kitchen. But the shed is also full of crap, so we’re gonna have to empty that out first. I was thinking you two could deal with the shed, and Sawyer, Kelly, and I will take care of what’s inside. We’ll sort what to donate, what to toss, and what to keep and carry it outside.”
I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”
“And if it’s too much in the shed, we’ll send Kelly out to help,” Rachel continues.
“No need. We’ll manage just fine,” Ryker says with a tight smile. “Let’s get going.”
Guess we’re just going to be weird about that whole Kelly incident.
Cool.
RYKER
The smart thing to do when cleaning up a shed filled with crap is to concentrate on the crap. To avoid stepping on rusty nails and potentially landing a tetanus shot for yourself. To concentrate and be careful you don’t accidentally injure yourself, because if you do your team and your coach will murder you.
Instead, I’m staring at the way Lake looks when he bends over to pick shit up. The shed is hidden from sight of the house by overgrown bushes, and a high fence conceals it from the neighbor’s properties, and it seems somewhere in there I’ve given my eyes permission to take full advantage of the privacy and study Lake with the kind of straightforward appreciation I’ve never allowed myself before.
He seems even taller when he’s standing in the low-ceilinged shed at his full height. The top of his head almost brushes the beams above our heads. He’s easily six-two, giving him an inch or so on me. There’s an innate grace in the way he moves. He’s not built for brute force, but speed and swift movements.
“Do you still swim?” I ask, voice somehow distant while I watch him pick his way through the debris piled on the floor.
He straightens himself and throws me a frown. “Not really. Why?”
I shrug. “I just remembered you used to. You were good. Why did you stop?”
“Pool membership didn’t make the budget,” he says distractedly. “Most of this will have to go straight into the garbage. We can probably save some of the wood, though. Pile it by the wall. Maybe they can use it for something at the house.”
He gets back to work. Ever since I picked him up this morning, he’s been decidedly civil. No knowing looks. No goading. No curiosity. No scrutiny.
It should be a relief.
Instead, I feel like I’m a nobody. Or maybe not a nobody. It’s more that the way he’s treating me right now… I’m like everybody else.
There’s a clear lack of that interest that I saw in his eyes last night. It’s insane—I know it is—but I want to be interesting to Lake.
I want him to look at me.
