“Hey, Tom?”I call out.
My favorite customer pushes off his chair, shuffling over to the counter with his freshly topped-up coffee clutched in his weathered hand, his blue fish T-shirt still proudly on display.“What do you need, Sunshine?”
The week has gotten away from me, so I haven’t had a chance to get my car fixed.With Rick coming by tonight, I won’t have time after work today either.That leaves only one other option.“Would you mind asking Young Tom to swing by my place and take a look at my tire?”
“Would I?”He chuckles.“I’d be pleased as punch—and so will he.”
“Thanks, Tom.”I’m regretting my choice already.
The rest of the day passes quickly, and by the time my bike squeaks into my driveway, I’m ready for a surf and a snooze.
Unfortunately, the latter isn’t on the cards.
The wind whips my hair into my face when I knock my kickstand into place.A high-pitched mechanical whirr screams from my neighbor’s house.He’s kneeling on his back deck with a piece of wood and a drill in his hand.
Shirtless.
His smuggled coffee and Reubens appear to have served him a little too well.
It really is such a shame he’s a jerk because never have I ever seen shoulders or arms or abs likethat.There aren’t six.There areeight.I know because I count them.Twice.
Either he loves the gym or he’s related to Thor.
Don’t even get me started on the light dusting of dark hair covering his extremely toned chest.If you looked up “manly” in the dictionary, his picture would be right next to it.
All that exposed skin has the tell-tale pink glow from too much sun.He probably thinks that a cloudy sky means you can’t get sunburnt.Fool.It’s none of my business if he wants to end up looking like a lobster.
I’m still in my driveway not staring at my neighbor when Young Tom shows up to fix my tire.
He climbs down out of his faded blue pickup, a bright smile on his thin face that reminds me a little too much of his grandfather.“Hey, Chloe.You’re lookin’ as fine as ever.”
Young Tom may be young, but he’s also good for my ego.“Nice to see you, Tom.Thanks for coming over on such short notice.”
“There’s no need to thank me.I’m more than happy to help you out anytime you want.”When he winks, I have to bite back my laugh.Who taught him to flirt?His grandpa?
Tom is all bravado, retrieving the tools from my trunk and laying them out next to the tire he brought with him.Then it comes time to stick the jack under the car, and he can’t seem to figure out how to make the thing go up.
“Do you know how to change a tire, Tom?”I ask.
His face pales.“Of course I do.There’s just something wrong with this jack.”
I have a feeling the problem isn’t with the jack.
“How about I look it up?”YouTube DIY videos and I are well-acquainted.
“There’s no need for that.You just put this right under here and… um…”
After five minutes of watching Tom struggle, I drag out my phone so we can both watch the video.This is something I should probably know how to do anyway.
Thirty seconds in, my very grumpy—and very shirtless—neighbor stomps down his stairs, strolls over to where we stand, and kneels beside the car.
Tom looks pointedly at me, then at my neighbor, and back at me.I can’t introduce them because I still don’t know the butthead’s name, and calling him “the butthead” right now seems in bad taste considering he’s actually doing something helpful for the first time since we met.
Why is he being so helpful, anyway?He’s not supposed to have any redeeming qualities.
“So… um…” Tom moves a little closer to me, his smile strained.“Do you know this guy?”
Besides the fact that he’s grumpier than a crab and has a thing for burnt coffee, Reubens, and Lucky Charms?Nope.“He’s my new neighbor.”
