“Hey,” I say, dragging myself back to the present. “Where’s the—uh—the thing for the lug nuts?”
Hattie just stares at me.
“You know? The thing?” I crank my hand up and down.
Very slowly, Hattie reaches directly in front of me—right in front of my damn face—and grabs the wrench sitting on the ground where I’d set it not thirty seconds ago. She presses it into my hand.
“Oh.” I ignore the white hot embarrassment crawling up my neck. “Right. Sorry. Not awake yet.”
She hums low and completely unconvinced.
“You know, you could be doing this too,” I say. “Dad taught you how to change a tire just as easily as he taught me.”
“And mess up my work clothes? No, thanks.” She folds her arms. “But, um, thank you. And thanks for bringing the spare.”
I force my attention to the tire and tighten the lug nuts one by one. The metal gives with a soft creak.
Hattie’s gaze darts down my shirt to my shorts. “Why are you wearing that?”
“What? This? You got it for me, remember?”
“Yeah, for special occasions. I told you that when we got it. It’s a dress shirt.” She gasps. “Wait, did you go out with someone?”
“No. I just… hit the clubs.” The lie comes too easily, too fast, and much, much too flat. Hattie probably doesn’t believe it, and I don’t dare look at her to find out.
I keep my head down, shoulders tight, and eyes fixed on the tire.
She lets it go for about three seconds. “I guess that explains it then.”
“Explains what?”
“Your mood. You must’ve had another late night. Was it someone from the club?”
I flinch. That shouldn’t sting as much as it does.
“Something like that.”
She snorts. “Hey, at least one of us is getting it.”
“Hattie,” I complain. “Please. Can we not talk about this? Or like, at all?”
I really don’t want to hear about my sister’s sex life.
Hattie taps her foot, looking at her phone. “Dammit, I’m late.”
I finish securing the tire, then dust off my knees as I get to my feet. “There. You owe me one,” I say flatly.
“Yeah, whatever. Thanks, little brother.”
I roll my eyes. “Ninety seconds, dimwit. We were ninety seconds apart.”
“Still my little brother!” She waves as she crawls into the car.
I stand there for a second after she leaves, staring at the empty stretch of road. Now what? I could go back, crawl into bed with Korie, and make us some breakfast. But I know I shouldn’t. Ineed to be good. If I go back, I definitely won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.
With a frustrated groan, I climb into my car and drive off in the opposite direction. Toward home. I do a load of laundry, clean up my apartment, send Korie a few too many gifs, then head into work.
It’s Sunday, which means no summer camps today—thank God.
