Page 6 of Show Me

Rather than throwing it at one of their heads, I set the level down harder than necessary. “She was about to hang a shelf with anchors meant for drywall the thickness of a cereal box.”

Nate grins as he grabs another nail out of his tool belt. “You always this invested in other people’s shelves?”

“I’m invested in not fixing things twice.” If the cement were still wet, I’d consider planting them in it and starting over with a new crew.

“That’s not what I asked.” He grins wider as Mark chuckles under his breath.

I shake my head, turning back toward the wall. “Get the next board lined up.”

“Deflecting,” Mark says.

“Working.” There’s a difference. There has to be.

I grab another stud and carry it into place, setting it against the frame and holding it steady while Nate lines it up. The wood is rough under my palms, solid, real, something I can measure. Adjust. Fix.

Not like… I cut the thought off before it finished. “Level.”

Nate checks it, nudges it. “Good.”

I keep my hand there a second longer than necessary before stepping back.

“Y’know,” Nate says, not even pretending to focus on his own task now, “she’s not the kind of girl you just ‘help pick out supplies’ for, and you’d flirt with a wall.”

“I know.” The words scrape out harder than I intended.

And that’s the problem. Because I do know, she’s not casual. Not temporary. Not something you half-step into and walk away from when it gets complicated. She’s….

I drag my hand down my face. “And I don’t flirt with walls.” Or with Ruby Bennett.

“Then why’re you messing with it?” Nate lifts the hammer in one hand while holding a nail against the stud with the other.

“I’m not messing with anything.” I turn back to the wall.

“You showed up.” Nate straightens the nail and slams the hammer against the head.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“You stayed.” Mark pipes up from the other side of me.

I don’t answer right away. Because yeah. I did. Longer than I needed to. Long enough to notice the way she argues when she’s in over her head. The way she doesn’t back down. The way she…

I step back, grabbing the tape measure and snapping it out harder than necessary. “Next wall.”

Nate watches me, then shakes his head. “Yeah,” he mutters. “That’s what I thought.”

I ignore him, moving to the next section of the frame. Measure. Mark. Cut.

Simple. Clear. Defined. The way things are supposed to be.

Not like standing in a hardware store, watching a girl argue over paint colors and pretending she doesn’t need help. Not like offering to stop by and knowing I shouldn’t, not like wanting to anyway.

“She’s not someone I mess around with.” I’m not sure if I’m telling them or myself.

Nate doesn’t even hesitate. “Then don’t.”

That’s the plan. It’s always been the plan. I don’t know why it feels like something I’m going to have to fight myself to stick to.

Chapter Three