Page 2 of Built to Last

“Meyers.” Kyle nodded tightly at me in return, then crossed his arms and waited for me to close the distance between us.

The man irritated me by breathing, let alone by walking into my café and standing there like he owned the place. Construction had been going on for over four months now, and the man hadn’t softened one bit.

Not that I wanted him to soften. Kyle wasn’t my friend. He never had been. He’d been a classmate, a teammate, and a crush, as much as I hated to admit that. Sure, we’d shared study sessions, baseball practice, laughs, and that one, hot as hell night, but he’d proven that whatever friendship I’d thought we had was a fantasy and a joke.

“What do you want?” I asked, striding to within a few feet of him, then crossing my arms and mimicking his hard-man stance.

Kyle was about five inches taller than me, but the way he held himself didn’t make him seem as massive as I knew from intimate experience he was. That didn’t mean he wasn’t authoritative as he said, “We’ve got a problem.”

Every muscle in my body tightened with those words. They were my least favorite in the English language, aside from, “We need to talk” and “I can’t come out right now”.

“What kind of problem?” I asked, boring into Kyle with my gaze like I could turn him into dust if he said the wrong thing.

Kyle peeked past me to the counter. I glanced out of the corner of my eye to find Chase and Emily, our afternoon baristas, watching like we were about to have a cage match.

I ignored them and returned my dagger eyes to Kyle.

Kyle sighed, rubbed a hand over his face, and said, “I know I said the new shop would be completely finished by the end of September⁠—”

“In three weeks,” I cut in to remind him.

Kyle paused, staring at me, shoulders bunched, then said, “But I’ve run into a snag.”

“What kind of snag?”

Off to the side, Chase leaned in to whisper something to Emily. I wished I’d thought to invite Kyle into the office to discuss things, but since Sam and Brian were out putting up fliers for their games nights and Diccon was checking out a new coffee distributor, that would have meant the two of us would be alone in an enclosed space.

The last time I’d been alone with Kyle Jameson in an enclosed space I’d been stuck with memories that would last a lifetime. Good and bad.

Kyle winced before explaining. “My electrician has a small scheduling conflict. He’s not going to be able to get in to wire the place until a week from Thursday.”

“Then hire a different electrician,” I said.

A flash of indignation shot through Kyle’s rich brown eyes. “I’m not doing that. I’ve worked with Robbie on every job I’ve done.”

“There’s a first time for everything, even hiring new electricians.” I shrugged, pretending to be unmoved when really, I admired loyalty like that.

Kyle ignored me. “I’m moving up installing the plumbing instead,” he said. “But that means they’ll have to dig up some of the area behind the strip here to lay new pipes.”

My instant response was juvenile, but I couldn’t help it. “I thought you weren’t into laying pipe these days,” I said with a bitter smirk.

Kyle blushed. Deep color splashed across the man’s face. He didn’t dart a glance to the counter to check if Chase and Emily had heard the remark, but I could tell he wanted to. We’d gone our separate ways after college and had barely spoken to each other in years before Kyle’s company showed up to turn the empty lot at the end of the strip of shops currently anchored by Common Grounds into another shop. We played in the same community baseball league, but on different teams where we could pretend we had no idea who the other was. But I still knew him better than he probably wanted me to.

Kyle cleared his throat and ignored me for the second time to plow ahead with what he’d probably planned and rehearsed saying before coming over. “Switching dates for the plumber and the electrician means we’re going to lose our inspection date. I’ve been able to reschedule for October fourth, but that means whatever business moves into the space will have a quick turn-around time. They might cause a little chaos when they do.”

I gaped at him. “You still don’t have a business to go into the space you ruined our summer banging up over there?”

“The bicycle shop guy found a different venue,” Kyle sighed, seeming genuinely stressed about it. “I’ve got a couple people I’ve been talking to, but no contracts have been signed yet.”

It took a lot for me to tamp down the sympathy I was inclined to feel for him. On the one hand, after throwing his own money into constructing a shop that was supposed to be a long-term investment for him, not knowing if he had someone to settle in the space had to be stressful.

On the other hand, who gave a fuck what Kyle Jameson felt?

An old, long-dormant part of me whispered that maybe I did.

“That sounds like a you problem more than a me problem,” I said, hugging myself tightly to keep old sentimentality from bursting out of my once-broken heart.

Kyle’s borderline generous expression hardened into a scowl. “I was just trying to be nice and keep you informed,” he said, mouth pinching like he’d tasted something sour.