AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“They are.”
He gestures at the wall. “The windows are four-feet-nine-inches. You need two-by-eights.”
I blink at the wood, andhell. How did I mess that up? Even worse, I don’t have the right size here for the work needed to be done. “Must have gotten this job mixed up with another. I’ll reorder and work on the cabinets with you.”
Jake blocks my way, forcing me to put the wood down. “How many other jobs are you doing?”
“You know—the Elroy deck and the Liang fence.”
“And Javier’s bathroom.”
“Sure.”
“And Mom’s bookshelf you insisted on doing yourself.”
“That’s a one-person job.”
I don’t mention my new nightly activity at Jolene’s apartment. An extra four hours of work added to my busy days.
Jake studies my eyes, his lips firming into a commandeering line. “Ever since WITSEC, you’ve had issues slowing down. You worked too much in Houston. Barely stopped to breathe then, but not like this.”
“I didn’t work too much in Houston.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’ve sat down for more than an hour in twelve years. If you weren’t working, you were at the gym or going for a run. You don’t know how to relax.”
“Youdon’t know what you’re talking about. I cook and read.”
In small bursts, and not recently, but still. My focus is single-minded these days. The past two weeks, I’ve barely had time to blink, let alone crack open my Chavez biography. I spend as little time in my home as possible. I sleep so hard I don’t hear Jolene at all.
Yesterday, on her day off, I worked fourteen hours and got home after she’d closed her bedroom door. We haven’t resurrected our food and note exchanges either, but she has texted me—daily messages since I almost confessed my feelings at the Yard Goat Gallery, to which I’ve replied vaguely.
Jolene: Can we make a time to talk?
Me: Busy with work.
Jolene: We didn’t finish our conversation.
Me: We will eventually.
Jolene: Are you avoiding me?
Me: Just trying to focus on my job.
Jolene: If you don’t slow down, you’ll work yourself to death.
Me: Physical activity helps with longevity.
Jolene: Keep this up, and I’ll eventually wake you up at night or corner you at work.
Me: I need my beauty sleep. And construction sites are dangerous.
I have become a pathetic sidestepper. A terrified man who chooses avoidance over facing the woman I can’t have.
“I’m fine,” I tell Jake. “Keeping busy keeps me happy.”
A muscle worms in his jaw. “Denial keeps you happy.”
“What does that mean?”
