“Look at the shading though!” I gesture enthusiastically before catching myself. “I mean... how horrible. Very inappropriate.”
“Very,” Alfie agrees solemnly, already pulling out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Documenting this.” His thumbs move quickly. “Aaand sending it to the group chat. Caption ‘Found Ethan’s portrait.’”
“You’re terrible!” I say, but I’m laughing.
“What? This is how guys show affection. Through anatomically correct insults.”
“By calling each other dicks?”
“It’s our love language.” His lips quirk up. “Though I have to admit, whoever did this hadballs.”
“Oh my god.” I shove his shoulder. “Did Alfie Spencer just make a joke?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not a robot, Tara.”
I narrow my eyes. “That’s exactly what a robot would say.”
When Janine texted about prepping the mural space, I almost said no. I had very important plans. Reorganizing my closet by color, binge-watching that show Alex keeps spamming me about, maybe even attempting to cook something more ambitious than microwave ramen. But Alfie replied instantly that he was already on campus, and well... I couldn’t let him suffer alone, could I?
Now I’m staring at the pile of scaffolding pieces Janine wants moved into position, questioning all my life choices.
“Just the first section today,” Janine said, gesturing to the metal poles and joints. “Shouldn’t take more than an hour. I’ll sign you both off once it’s set up.” She checked her watch and backed away. “I’ve got a meeting, but youtwo can handle this, right? Just lock up when you’re done.”
The pieces don’t look that big individually. Totally manageable. I mean, I did that one arm workout video last month. I’m practically a fitness influencer.
“I’ll get started,” I announce, grabbing one of the longer poles before Alfie can move. It’s significantly heavier than expected. But I’ve committed now.
Alfie makes a sound that might be a laugh. When I glance over, his face is carefully neutral, but his eyes are dancing.
“What?” I challenge, trying to pretend my arms aren’t already shaking.
He watches me struggle, hands in his pockets. “Nothing.”
“Clearly it’s something.”
“Just admiring your technique.” His voice drops lower. “Very... determined. Do you need some help?”
I adjust my grip as the metal starts to slip. “The pole and I are doing just fine, thanks.”
“Really.” He sounds like he’s grinning. Asshole. “Is that why you’re turning such a lovely shade of pink?”
“It’s hot out.”
“Hm, is it?”
“Are you just going to stand there critiquing my form?”
He tilts his head, eyes trailing over me deliberately. “The view is quite entertaining.”
“You’re horrible,” I manage, even as the pole threatens to escape my grip.
“Just observant.” He steps closer, still not helping. “Youknow, there’s a fascinating geological process called joint loading...”
“Really? You’re giving me a science lecture right now?”
