AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shiloh took the Jeep to pick up some kids a couple blocks over who needed a ride to his class, and there’s no way in hell to make it to the trailer park on foot unless I want to end up roadkill on the side of the interstate.
If I plan to show up unannounced—because let’s be honest, Blair would pull every excuse in the book to convince me not to come—I feel like I should do it with more than just a charming smile and an apology.
Plus, I’ve been feeling this odd sense of guilt ever since the kiss with Shiloh. It didn’t mean anything. And it’s not like Blair and I are actually dating, but a good pretend boyfriend wouldn’t kiss said boyfriend’s brother.
He also wouldn’t leave his stubborn boyfriend to tear down and rebuild a porch all by himself.
Yeah, that’s a good excuse. He can’t refute that.
But if I don’t have the Jeep, how the hell am I...
I scroll through my contacts until I come across the number I need and open our chats. They’re fairly spread out, sometimes just a greeting back and forth and a couple of pleasantries. Sometimes we get going about something or another, but it’s been about a month since the last time we talked.
Should I go with a normal greeting or jump straight to the point?
Eh, it’s fine. He’s my brother. He loves me.
Me: Can I borrow your truck?
A few minutes later, when I’m considering alternatives like getting a Lyft down and walking back and forth from the supply shop, my phone dings.
Ryder: Hello to you too, little bro. What for?
Me: Loh has my Jeep and I gotta haul some lumber.
Ryder: ‘haul some lumber’? Is this some new college chick trafficking scheme?
Me: What? Ew gross, no. Like, actual lumber jackass. You know, wood that you build things with?
Ryder: And if I need my truck?
Me: You have the work van! Please. I’ll pay for gas.
Ryder: Of course you will, twerp.
It’s nearly an hour and a half later when I’m rolling down the dirt and gravel path down one of the semicircle sections that houses the Novak trailer. And it is... an absolute shit show to say the least.
All five of the steps have been torn down, half of the boards and railing at the top are gone, and Blair is currently whacking at one of the sides with a sledgehammer.
Jesus.
Blair was not built for this kind of labor, that’s for sure, because this is a mess and a half.
“Blair!” I hop out of the truck and jog over as quickly as I can before he smashes a finger. He’s already got a half-assed bandage on one hand—and hey we kind of match!—and he sure as hell doesn’t need to add another injury on top of it.
I must startle him because he jumps and the hammer slips through his fingers, landing with a nice, solid thud on the ground. It’s not a far drop, like three or four feet because of the stilts under the trailer, but he still looks down at it with a point that reminds me of his brother.
“Can you hand me that?” he asks.
I bend down to pick it up but completely ignore his outstretched hand in favor of inspecting the railing he’s trying to take apart.
“You got any rhyme or reason to this?”
He shrugs, and when he wipes the sweat from his forehead he smears blood across it. Before I can chastise him or ask him where the hell he’s bleeding now, he rips at one of the loose boards and tosses it over my shoulder.
“I can do it like that, but the hammer is more fun.”
“I bet it is,” I grumble, stepping closer and grabbing both of his hands before he can do it again.
