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“It’s just a friend offering to help…” he said quietly. “Nothing more. If you don’t trust me with your vehicle, the keys, or…”
She shoved the keys in his hands, feeling strangely adrift and a little exposed at this sudden turn between them. His eyes met hers and he looked almost as lost as she felt.
“I don’t know what this is, what’s going on, or what you think this is… but Idotrust you – and it’s just a set of keys, Kyle. I’m not trying to make a big deal about this, but something is not right in our friendship, and I can’t put my finger on it,” she whispered in a hushed voice, feeling her nose sting as she realized that tears would not be far behind.
He took a few steps and unlocked the café instead of heading towards her car – holding open the doorway for her.
Reyna nodded, entering the café and putting her purse down, before crossing her arms over her chest defensively.
Protectively.
He looked at her a moment, nodded, and then let the door close.
Stunned, she walked over and pushed it open to see him crossing the street towards her vehicle. He held up a hand to wave hello to someone and then disappeared inside. She saw the taillights come on, then the reverse lights, and watched as he backed it out before circling the small park that was in the middle of the town square… then let the door close to the café.
She didn’t want him to know she was watching, because shedidtrust him – it was her own feelings that she didn’t trust.
Kyle entered the café several minutes later, carrying a toolbox. He set the keys down on the table and moved towards the ladder without another word. He immediately began climbing a few rungs up the ladder before Reyna could say anything…
He was avoiding her.
“Aren’t you going to eat your donuts?”
“I’m fine.”
There was a note in his voice that told her that he wasn’t ‘fine’ as he claimed – and none of this was ‘fine’ between them.
“We’ll do this your way then…” she muttered, folding the bag closed and leaving it on the table to move to his side. “Can I help?”
“Nope.”
Yep. There was a tone,she thought to herself.
“Should I start waxing the…”
“Nope.”
“I could clean…”
“Nope.”
“Will you quit saying ‘nope’ like that and talk to me?” she snapped – only to see him smirk as he removed the light fixture and answered her.
“Nooope…” he drawled in an irritating manner.
Reyna stood there, clenching, and unclenching her fists in frustration as she glared at him, realizing that the urge to shove him off the ladder was pretty powerful in that moment… but also recognizing that she didn’t want to hurt him.
She wanted to understand what was going on in his mind, what he was thinking, and enjoyed seeing him move as he worked… but he was just so frustrating and closed-mouthed.
“Whatever…” she grunted, and grabbed her tote of cleaning supplies to tackle the bathroom. If they were going to be changing the toilet, she at least wanted the area they would be working in as spotless as possible – that, and it got her away from Kyle for a bit.
She didn’t want to sit there ogling the man if he wasn’t interested – because she certainly was. The more she talked to him, saw him, or was around him… the more fascinated she was becoming with his very person. There was something about him that just spoke to her, called out to her.
He was so bloomin’…nice.
“Ugh… I hate that word,” she muttered, getting on her hands and knees to wash the penny-tile flooring. Filling the sink with hot soapy water, she heard him humming softly to himself while she worked in the dim sunlight that was coming through the yellowed newspaper on the window glass in the distance.
Part of her was really glad that she couldn’t see exactly how filthy the floor was that she was kneeling on… and knew her jeans would need to be washed in bleach or burned from the grime.
