Page 39 of The Other Room

Peeking out into the living room, I once again saw it vacant.

Hmm. Maybe today wouldn’t be the day I had to face him again. The day I needed to look him in the eye and suppress all those feelings I had been scrambling to shove back inside. And if I did see him, maybe, just maybe, today would be the day I succeeded once and for all.

Maybe.

The sound of waves crashing at the shoreline drew me to them, so I made a cup of coffee and headed out onto my back porch. Pushing open the screen door, I paused, inhaling the intoxicating blend of coffee and the smell of fresh water. A perfume I’d bottle up if I could... just like how I felt about bacon.

A loud pounding jarred me from my tranquil moment and caused my eyes to snap open. My gaze skated across the rocky beach below and then slammed to a stop when it landed on Matt, hammering nails into a heap of driftwood.

A shirtless Matt.

A sweaty, shirtless Matt.

A sweaty, shirtless, impossibly sexy Matt.

Yeah. About those feelings...

Damn it!

Matt swiped an arm across his forehead, and I felt the lump sliding down my throat while I swallowed... or tried to swallow.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

He turned, his eyes lifting to the porch and locking onto mine. “Hey, Jo! I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Sweet Jesus. Has he always been this hot?

When a smile tugged up his lips, deepening his dimples, my knees wobbled, and I reached for the now non-existent railing. My hand swiped through the empty space and I teetered forward, catching myself before I plummeted off the edge.

“You okay?” Matt yelled, dropping his hammer and jogging across the rocks toward me.

“Uh, fine!” I called down, stepping safely away from the edge. “Just forgot that railing fell off.”

He arrived at the bottom of the stairs, and the sunlight glistening on his sweaty skin only amplified the definition of his muscles.

Antarctica. It looked like I’d be getting a couple parkas, some huskies, and hunkering down in an igloo for the rest of my life. No way in hell the feelings searing through my body would go willingly back into the hole where they used to reside. They were alive and well and enjoying their newfound freedom by doing cartwheels inside my stomach.

“Careful, Jo. I’m going to work on that railing today. My order for lumber just came in at Lampert’s Hardware.”

He came up the stairs, and with each step toward me, those feelings busted out new gymnastic moves in my belly.

“Did you notice the roof?” he asked, pointing above my head. My eyes tried to follow his finger, but instead they skated across every plane of his body, finally drifting along his tanned bicep and moving to where his finger insisted they go... which was in the opposite direction of where they’d spend all day staring if I let them.

When I looked up, I saw all the old shingles were missing, and a shiny layer of material covered the peaked roof.

“I figured it was dark when you got home last night, so you hadn’t noticed. I got all the old shingles ripped off and disposed of, and I got the underlayment down, so today I can finish putting up new shingles. You’ll have a new roof by tomorrow!”

“Holy shit, Matt.” My jaw dropped open when I realized just how much work he’d put into my cabin while I’d been slinging drinks. “You did all that last night?”

“Yep. I got home at four thirty and went at it until eleven. I just stuck some lights up there after it got dark. Luckily, it’s a small roof, and those shingles were barely hanging on, so they came off without much fuss.”

“I’m literally speechless. The contractor quoted me like several thousand dollars.”

“Matt’s Professional Puttering at your service.” He grinned wider, and the nerves I’d been feeling in anticipation of this reunion started to quiet down.

Matt seemed normal. Relaxed. Maybe it had all been in my imagination, and for three days I’d been hiding for no reason and building this molehill into Mount Everest.

But suddenly realizing that almost-kiss must have been all in my head stung a little deeper than I’d expected. If he wasn’t feeling awkward, then that meant the kiss hadn’t almost happened. And if the kiss hadn’t almost happened, then I’d been imagining that there was anything between us other than what I’d known my whole life.