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“You waiting to get loaded?” I ask.
It’s then that it strikes me that she looks just like the girl I’ve been dreaming about for the past couple of weeks.
“What?” She’s clearly startled, and then the expression on her face morphs into surprise. “Tyler?”
My heart does a couple thumps as I realize that this is my real-life dream girl standing in front of me again. There’re so many things I want to say to her, but I hold myself back and allow her to lead the conversation. Things don’t go exactly as I would like, and there’s a bit of weird awkwardness between us. I can tell that she’s embarrassed about the way I saw her last time, but I want her to know that she can trust me, so I don’t push the issue.
I stand there grinning like an idiot. Usually, I can think of a thousand witty things to say, but standing in front of her, I’ve got nothing. My brain is a big glob of Jell-O inside my skull. I’ll admit, I’m intimidated a bit by her hotness.
Damn it. Still nothing.
So I do the only thing that makes sense, and turn the conversation back to the reason we’re both standing out here awkwardly by asking for her receipt.
After I instruct her on where to have the vehicle loaded, I turn back toward the building, completely embarrassed. I hurry inside to get her order together, all the while scolding myself for not being a little more suave.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Man, I’m such an idiot. Why can’t I talk around her? That was probably my one and only shot, and I royally screwed it up.
When I come back outside with the forklift that’s stacked with their order, her father is standing at the rear of the truck with the tailgate already down. Her dad’s help with the work surprises me. He’s a really nice dude. He rambles on about how he grew up in this town, and how he and his daughter are here to stay for a while. In addition, he tells me that’s why they’re at Jones’s Lumber. To get supplies to build Avery a room onto the house. Avery. I love the way her name feels on my lips.
“So, do you think you could help me out?” Avery’s dad asks. “I can’t pay you much, but I could really use the help.”
“Oh, yeah. No problem.” I don’t even bother telling him that I would be willing to work for free because it will give me ample access to Avery—that would just make me sound like too much of a creeper.
“Great, I plan on starting it tomorrow. Will that work for you?” he asks.
“Sounds good,” I answer. Definitely sounds like a plan.
He starts walking toward the front of the truck where Avery is waiting. “Okay, see you tomorrow,” her dad calls.
Avery’s lips draw in a tight line. She’s confused about the tomorrow thing, probably.
She shoots me a look, and I waggle my eyebrows up and down, while my grin widens. I usually don’t have to work this hard to get girls. This one is going to take a lot of effort, but I’m willing to put in the work.
AVERY
Day one of the room addition extravaganza kicks off rather slowly. Every time I get a minute break from Granny’s slave labor, I check on their progress. I think Dad and Tyler spent the first half of the day figuring out how the laser and tape measure work because it took them nearly all morning to simply use a can of orange spray paint to mark lines on the ground. My suspicions are now confirmed, my room’s going to be lopsided. I’ll probably be in there sleeping one night and get crushed to death because the roof decides to collapse on me. So I wouldn’t be surprised if “GIRL KILLED BY HOUSE” is in the paper someday. Maybe I don’t want the new room after all.
Finally, with all my chores done, I earn a little free time. It’s a rather warm day for May, and an itch for a little vitamin D hits me. After I change into a pair of shorts and a tank top, I plop down on a rickety plastic lounge chair. If I can’t afford to pay for my tan anymore, I’ll get it the old-fashioned way. I lay back and close my eyes, and wish I’d charged my iPod last night. The sun burns down on my skin after a couple minutes. It feels soothing. I get to pretend for a little while that things are exactly as they were. We still live in Columbus, and I’m at the pool in my backyard.
I enjoy the dream until a shadow blocks out my sun.
“That’ll cause cancer, you know,” Tyler says.
The sound of Tyler’s deep voice causes me to nearly jump out of my chair. My eyes snap open to find Tyler standing there with
a tool pouch around his waist. He’s wearing an old rock band T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, allowing a full display of those delicious arms of his. He unbuckles the tools from around his waist and my eyes dart to his crotch for a moment. My face instantly flushes to a deep red when I realize he’s caught me checking out his package.
I need to say something—anything to take my mind off the fact that I’ve just really embarrassed myself.
“I know the UV rays are bad for you, but I just want to look good,” I finally answer. “And tan fat looks better than pasty white fat.” Or so I read in one of my weekly girl-how-to magazines.
He laughs. “Well, if that’s the case, you don’t have a thing to worry about. Your body looks perfect to me.”
I try to hide my smile so he doesn’t think flattery will get him anywhere, but I can’t hide it long. I bite my lower lip to keep from full-on grinning like an idiot.
Tyler just stands there staring as if he’s studying me, and after a moment he shakes his head as if waking himself up out of a daze. “Sorry,” he says, “I nearly forgot what I came over here for. Your Dad needs some more supplies. He didn’t have any cash, so he wanted you to come with me to sign the debit card receipt.”
