Page 7 of Don’t Get Too Close

We spent the next hour hauling things out of the stalls closest to the bathroom so it was easier for me to get in and out at night and then moving everything into the stalls closer to the front. The random pieces of lumber were stacked up, and Kacen promised to find out what the wood was worth so he could try to sell it. I was just grateful when we cleared enough space for me to bring in my couch and chair.

Kacen did the heavy lifting without making me feel bad about it. He just picked stuff up and moved it wherever I pointed, like he was genuinely trying to make me happy rather than just cover his ass.

We were in a landlord state, so he could have told me to handle my shit and I would have. Just like I’d been doing my whole life.

By the time we were done, we had two stalls cleared and one looked like it’d be just big enough for my bed, assuming I could drag it over. The other had hooks along the wall and some empty shelving, so I figured a closet-slash-dressing area was a good idea.

When we were finished, I slid my hands into my pockets and palmed the key Kacen had given me. “I really appreciate you helping me out in here. You didn’t have to.”

“Sure I did.” He clapped his hands together once and turned to me. “You wanna go grab your stuff so you can get settled?”

The trailer looked worse than I remembered after I’d had time to fully process the damage. Water had spread across most of the kitchen floor, and the cheap cabinets were already warping. “Damn.” The stench of mildew and wet…everything hit me like a brick wall. “That was fast.”

“Water is powerful.” Kacen stepped in behind me and surveyed the damage for himself. “Your couch and TV look okay. That’s good.” He turned toward my bedroom. “And hopefully everything down the hall is fine.”

“Yeah, if you can help with the big stuff, I’ll deal with everything else myself.”

He inhaled deeply and then leaned against the counter. “Actually, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in here alone. If anything happens, I’m responsible.” He stepped down into the door well. “If you fill up everything you can from your room into garbage bags, we can line them up outside until everything you want to keep is out. Then you can move it in at your leisure.” He said that last word with some kind of accent that was meant to be funny, but I didn’t get it.

I was still stuck on the fact that he seemed worried about…my safety. I didn’t quite get him.

Not interested in arguing with him, I shoved all my clothes and shoes into bags, and then we started working in the kitchen. I didn’t have much, but my electric kettle had survived the crash. That was nice since it was the easiest way for me to make instant noodles or oatmeal when I didn’t want to cook real food. Which was most of the time.

I was able to salvage my silverware and the mismatched plates and bowls that were in the drain rack, but everything else in the kitchen was trash. Including all the food in the now-defunct fridge and rainsoaked pantry shelf. Everything that had once been edible was tossed into a trashbag that Kacen took out to the communal dumpster we all shared.

The bed was the hardest thing to squeeze through the narrow hallway. It had been here when I moved in, so I never considered having to move it out. But since Kacen wasn’t worried about scuffing the walls or floor, we manhandled it out of the trailer and all the way to the workshop with a few minutes of effort. The couch was only slightly easier to wrestle, but I’d moved that in myself, so I knew it was possible.

Though, watching Kacen muscle it over the threshold like he was a bodybuilder was worth pretending to be weaker than I actually was.

It wasn’t until Kacen reached around my back to steady a shelf that was tipping on one side that I realized I’d stopped flinching every time he was near me.

That should have bothered me a lot more than it did…but my fear of him was hard to pull to the surface. It was just gone…as if I trusted the man.

And that definitely bothered me. A lot.

I had no right feeling comfortable around any man, much less one who could snap me in two if he wanted.

By late afternoon, the workshop actually looked like a house and not a barn. My bed took up one stall and we set up the other with my clothes so I could change in private. Kacen found a wooden dowel among the wood scraps and mounted it to the wall like a closet rod without being asked.

When I stood in the middle of my new, temporary home a strange bout of emotion came over me. It wasn’t something I could name because it was completely foreign. A small voice in the back of my head was telling me it was safety and contentment, but that couldn’t be right.

That would never be right. At least not for me.

“It looks good.” Kacen stretched his arms over his head and his shirt rode up enough to show off a strip of his stomach.

Nope, not going down that road again. I quickly looked away so I wouldn’t get caught staring.

Except looking away didn’t fix my problem.

My body was already doing something it hadn’t done in a very long time. Something I swore would never happen because it wasn’t safe. My survival depended on me not noticing men like Kacen.

And yet, I was getting hard. I hadn’t felt any sort of arousal in years and didn’t think I ever would. It just wasn’t safe to ever let my guard down enough to feel good, alone or with someone else.

It was a rule I’d made for myself after my life spiraled into a constant game of cat and mouse. Hiding in plain sight but never actually being seen.

I decided a long time ago that whatever desire other people had for human connection didn’t apply to me anymore. It couldn’t apply to me.

And yet, I was half hard in a dead man’s workshop while a gorgeous man who was twice my size stretched his arms over his head and groaned. Since when was a groan sexy?