I scoff, giving Sloane’s shoulder a playful shove. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“She hurt her neck.” Landon pats an empty table, gesturing for me to get on top. “Unfortunately, her mouth still works.”
An old lady on the arm bike cackles. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Mr. Fletcher.”
I grin as I round Landon’s table. “You should’ve seen the way he slammed the door in my face just now walking in here.”
“Don’t listen to her, Annette. She’s full of lies.”
Sloane giggles from the other side of the room. “This is going to be fun.”
“Sloane, I need you to keep an eye on him while he’s working on me. If anything looks fishy, or if he looks like he’s about to snap my neck, I’m gonna need you to step in and save me.”
Landon rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to snap your neck. You’re so dramatic.”
I heave a sigh and glance at the padded table. “How do you want me?”
Both of our heads snap up and we lock eyes.
“I immediately regret my choice of words.”
A confident smile splits his face. “Sure, you do.”
“Okay, I’m out.” I pivot on my heels.
“I’m joking.” He tugs on my elbow. “Lay on your back. Loosen your pony tail a little and maybe you won’t be so damn uptight.”
“Annette, cover your eyes.” I hold up my middle finger in his face.
She grins, the wrinkles crinkling around her eyes. “I like you. You’ve got spunk.”
“Some would call itrude,” Landon says, rolling over a low stool. “But yeah, let’s go withspunk.”
I slide onto the maroon pad and lower onto my back, blinking up at the florescent lights above. My stomach twists as nerves kick in. “Is this going to hurt?”
Landon waggles devious eyebrows. “Depends on your pain tolerance.”
I push off the table to get up, but Landon’s giant hand pushes my shoulder back down.
“I’m kidding. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
“Please stop with the sexual innuendos.”
“Your mind is the only one in the gutter right now.”
I grunt and focus on the speckled boards of the drop ceiling.
Landon rolls his chair to the edge of the table and takes my head into his hands. Being this close to him, his face hovering mere inches from mine, is an intimacy we haven’t shared in a long time. I take him in, this older version; the shape of his square jawline, the fullness of his lips, the contrast between his light skin and dark features. Landon is handsome, there’s no denying it.
Despite his obnoxious personality.
“So, what were you doing when you tweaked your neck?” His voice is low. Soothing almost, like we’re having a private conversation no one else can hear.
“I was trying to go through some old boxes in the garage. They’re piled so damn high, and one of them toppled over.”
“That’ll do it.” He digs his fingertips into each side of my neck, massaging the tight muscles there in slow circles. “Find what you were looking for in there?”
“I’m just trying to organize all the clutter. I haven’t touched any of it since my dad passed, and I need to figure out whether or not I’m selling the house so I figured the garage was the best place to start.”
