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“Not by choice.”
“Come on, Ken Doll, you and I both know I’m not gonna get any rest until we hash this out. Would you rather talk or listen to me pound nails all night?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Tell me you felt it, too?”
He sighs and rolls over, his mattress dipping and creaking from the weight. “Felt what?”
“When she kissed you. I know I’m not the only one that felt it.”
“It doesn’t matter what I felt.”
I throw his pillow back at him. “Bullshit.”
“She said no, Brendan. That means no. Now get some sleep.”
“She didn’t say no. She said she’s fucking scared.”
“Same thing.”
I laugh even though there’s nothing funny. “Not even close. I mean, I know she’s into me, but you’re a scary mother. She probably thinks you have your head screwed on too tight and you wouldn’t be any fun. Scared her straight out of my –”
He throws the pillow back. It hits me in the face before I finish my sentence. “Go to sleep, Brendan.”
“I think we came on too strong.” I wrap my arms and legs around the pillow, hugging it. No way I’m tossing it back and letting him slap me with it again. “I mean, it is a stretch for most people. We just need to give her some time to wrap her head around us both.”Then I can wrap myself around her.
“You do whatever you want. I’m going to sleep.”
“Just promise me you won’t give up.”
“Look,” I can just make out his silhouette sit up in the dark, “ifand it’s a bigifsomething happens, I’ll let it. But I’m not making the first move. She said no, I’m not going to be an ass and pressure her.”
I don’t hear much of what he says after he confirmed he wouldn’t give up. Something about an ass. Yeah, her ass is way too fine to give up on, especially in those tiny shorts she was wearing earlier. Fuck, the way those round cheeks peeked out the bottom of them, even if I did only catch it as she was running away. It’s been way too damn long since I felt anything even remotely close to this. No way I’m giving up.
I hug the pillow tighter, wishing it was that spicy brunette. Closing my eyes, I breathe it in, only it’s not her flowery, girly perfume, it’s Breckin’s shampoo that invades my nostrils. Scrunching my face, I toss the pillow back at his already sleeping figure.
Two hours later, I’m still staring at the black ceiling. I grunt and roll out of bed. I’m up, I might as well be up. I stumble into Breckin’s bed twice, fisting my hands to keep from cursing. My big toe might be broken, but no sense waking him up again just ‘cause I can’t sleep. Grabbing some clothes that feel like jeans and a shirt, I tug them on while I stroll into the kitchen.
My socks are mismatched, but at least I found two. Hopping, I pull them on, then slip on my boots and sneak through the tarps to the living room.
Glancing over my shoulder to make sure I didn’t wake Breckin, I flip on a light switch and grab a bucket of grout. After our little guest ran out last night, Breckin and I busted out the tile for my shower. All’s left is tiling his walk-in shower and separate soaker tub before the plumber can come back in and hook up all the appliances. It doesn’t take me long to tile one of the walls for his shower with the large, textured, white tiles he picked out before I shut out the light and sneak out back. In the garage, I set up the tile cutter as far away from Breckin’s BMW as I can get.
Humming some tune my mom used to play on her piano when I was little, I set to work cutting down all the tiles for the corners and built-in shelving he’s added. Luckily, it’s the same measurements as mine so I already have those written out, just a different tile. At work, I pretend I’m fine being the guy in charge. It’s what I always said was my goal. Most days though, it feels like that was just a pipe dream, a way to prove that I’m just as capable as Breckin. A chance to show that I’m not some piss-poor waste of space.
Truth is, though, I miss doing the work every day. There’s just something about the feel of a hammer in your hand, the vibrations of a drill, and that pride that comes with knowing you accomplished something, you made something real. No amount of yelling at other people to keep working or sitting at a desk drawing little figures, can rival that feeling.
Numbering the back of the last tile, I grab the piece of paper with my measurements and make a quick drawing for Brendan, labeling where all the pieces go. It should be simple enough for him. He did a damn good job helping with my bathroom, plus he insisted we use those little spacers which make the job virtually flaw-proof. This way he can hopefully get some shit done today without screwing up and breaking a bunch of expensive ass tiles in the process.I don’t think I can handle another delay if we have to order more tiles. That happens, I’m calling the plumber myself and getting my bathroom finished at least. He can keep using that tiny shitter outside. I’m ready for mine to be installed.
One thing my old boss always drilled into us was, you do it right the first time or do you don’t do it at all. That lesson stuck. If I’m gonna build something I’m doing it right.
Wiping the sweat off my forehead with the bottom of my shirt, I catch a few gray rays of sun shining in from the windows on the garage door. Guess it’s morning now. Putting all my tools up, I head out of the garage and over to my truck in the driveway.
I might as well head to work early today. There are a lot of nails and shit to count for inventory to make sure there’s enough for all the studs my crew have to install today. Yep, being the boss sucks sometimes, but it’s what I signed up for.
I tug on the driver’s side door and sigh when it opens right up. No toilet paper, no sand and water soaking my seat, no keys sitting in the cup holder of my locked truck. No feisty spitfire thinking of me, even if it was just to piss me off. I’d lock the truck up every night if I didn’t think there was a possibility of her doing something else to it. Some childish prank to let me know I’m on her mind, scratched my way underneath her skin. Letting out another heavy breath, I climb in my work truck and ease out of the driveway.
I’m not running away. And I’m sure as fuck not giving up. But, I’ll give her time like Breckin suggested.
