by Claire Adams
“I think he’s in a hurry.” Ryan tipped his bottle back and drained it. He winked, then took off after Luke. I followed, still drinking my second beer. When I got to the doorway, Ryan had the mattress over his head and was pretending to use it as a weight set. Luke was shaking his head.
“You're going to hit the fan,” he warned and shook his head before putting the last base bar into the wood frame. He lifted the box spring easily and laid it on the frame. Ryan slid my mattress on top of it and then hopped on the bed.
“Bouncy!” He smiled as he pushed and bounced on my bed. I slapped his arm and ordered him off.
“Get out!” I said playfully.
“Fine,” he pouted and stomped jokingly out of the room.
“You want help putting the sheets and stuff on?” Luke asked.
“Nah, I’ll get it, but thank you.”
“Okay, I'll see you around.” He started toward the door.
“Luke, wait.” I took a few steps in his direction. “I really can't thank you guys enough for helping me.”
“It's what we small town folks do,” he winked and tipped his head then walked down the stairs.
I called a thank you down to Ryan and flopped on the bed with a smile thinking about Luke’s offer to help with the bed.
Chapter Nine
Luke
I have never wanted to be in a girl’s bedroom more than I wanted to be in hers, and for the first time it wasn't just about sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Every male fiber of my being wanted to have sex with her. I'm fairly certain every man in a thirty-mile radius wanted to have sex with her. I closed her front door, making sure I had turned the lock before I walked over to my side.
“You are in sooo much trouble,” Ryan laughed as he sat back in the chair closest to my front door, rocking on the back legs.
“You're going to break my chair,” I said and reached for the screen door handle.
“You really, really like her. I thought it was just a sexual thing, but nooooo. You seriously like her.”
“She’s nice,” I shrugged and pulled the door open, disappearing into my house.
“Dude, she likes you too.” He let the chair fall and then walked in behind me.
“I doubt that very seriously. We have had exactly two,” I held up two fingers and shoved them toward him. “Two conversations that didn't involve shouting. She isn't into me like that.”
“Did you not notice how red her face got when you asked about the sheets?” Ryan cocked his head.
I had noticed, but I didn't think it was because of me. “No, not really. I figured it was because you had made yourself at home on her bed.”
“No, she expects that shit from me,” he admitted.
“It isn't like that, so stop trying to make it like that, okay?”
“Aye, Aye, captain. Whatever you say. Just don't miss something great while you're out here trying to prove me wrong.” He slapped me on the shoulder. “Put the rest of the beer in the fridge for the weekend, okay?” He pointed to the cooler. “I’ll see ya tomorrow. Think about what I said,” he added, and then I pushed him out the door and shut it.
“Be that way!” he called out before I heard his truck start up and then slowly grumble down the driveway.
I walked to fridge with the cooler and put all of the bottles in but one. I thought about how the warmth of her body felt when I had walked up behind her to place the pitcher for her. The memory of her flinching slightly when she felt me rippled through me. Knowing that I wanted her wasn't the issue. Figuring out how to want her was.
I’ve never been the kind to flaunt my sexuality, unlike Ryan. I wanted something with substance, something real. Unfortunately, most women treated me as if I were like Ryan. You’d think after all this time, they’d realize I’m not like him at all. Over the years, I’ve slept with a few, but my numbers were not even in the same ballpark as Ryan.
My phone rang as I shut the door to the fridge. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. Ryan.
“Hello?”
“Dude, if you don't try to figure out how to make that girl yours—” I hung up on him.
He immediately called back, and I sent it to voicemail. It rang again and again until I answered.
“Seriously man, are you a fifteen-year-old girl?” I huffed into the phone.
“Nope, but you are acting like a twelve-year-old boy who really likes a girl. The only thing you haven't done is hit her or throw rocks at her.”
“What’s your point?” I dropped into my leather chair throwing my legs up on the ottoman.
“That you’re stupid. Like really, really stupid. That girl is ripe for the picking, and you're so in your head about everything that you can’t even see it. I get the competition schedule is hard and you’re all focused and shit, and I know you’re gonna say it has caused trouble in the past, but this girl... this girl isn't the same kind of girl. She is made to compliment you. I just don't want you to miss something that may be the best thing for you, is all.”
“When exactly did you grow a vagina?” I laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. I love ya, man. You’re my brother, and ya know it. I just want what's best for you.”
“Says the one that has never had a real relationship?”
“I guess I'm not good at those, but you are. What I’m good at is cutting some wood. What time are we leaving Wednesday?”
“Six.”
“Okay. I’ll let this go. For now. See ya in the morning.”
Popping a top on the bottle I pulled from the fridge, I leaned my head on the back of the chair and thought about what Ryan had said. Shaking my head, I finished the beer, got up, and tossed it on the recycling bin in the kitchen. Then, I climbed the stairs and headed to bed.
***
I stretched my arms over my head peaking my eyes open to the darkness outside. It was just after five a.m., and I needed to get that table finished before Ryan got here around nine. I’d gotten the news a few days before that the furniture company decided to hold off on a contract until after competition season when I was in a place I could produce several pieces a month for them. I only hoped they didn’t change their minds between now and then.
I got dressed, made my way to the kitchen, drank my protein shake quickly, and headed out to the shop. I’d been there about fifteen minutes when I was interrupted.
“Are you flippin’ serious right now?” she said from the doorway.
“What?” I asked pulling the ear plugs from my ears and looking over my shoulder.
“It's five thirty in the morning, Luke!”
“I only had the sander going. It’s not really that loud,” I replied.
“Yes. It is.”
“You must have very sensitive hearing then,” I tried to come across as playful. She wasn’t buying it.
She pulled in a hard breath and blew it out. “I can handle the normal seven, but five thirty? Really?” Her hands pressed into her hips.
I stood there looking at her, wanting to smile, but I knew that probably wasn't the best thing to do. “I was just trying to finish this up before I have to leave Wednesday.” I pointed toward the piece I was working on.
“Ya know, I have tried really hard to deal with the noise. I am the quietest neighbor in the history of neighbors. It would do you some good to try a little of that.”
“I’m sorry?” I shrugged.
“I mean, between the seven a.m. wood working, the nine a.m. chainsaws and axes, and the one in the morning sexcapades, I think I have been pretty patient,” she barked. Her fists were by her side at this point, and she was vibrating. I mean literally vibrating where she stood. Her face was red, and it was as though she was trying to bore holes straight through me.
“I can't make up for what Ryan didn't tell you,” I snipped at her, getting irritated that she interrupted me while I was trying to finish.
“Ryan told me that you worked with wood and had a shop. He also said that it wasn't generally at the ass crack of dawn. So, if
you don't mind, I would like to sleep a little more.”
“You will get all the sleep you need while we are gone. We are leaving out Wednesday and won't be back until Monday. I had planned on coming over later today just to give you a heads-up, but now you know. I'm sorry if you think the sander is loud, but I've got to finish this.” I turned back to the table, placing my ear plugs back in my ears and started working again.
I saw her reflection in the window as she stormed out of the shop.
***
“Yo!” Ryan yelled as he walked across the backyard.
“Give me five!” I shouted back. I was wrapping the last of the glass up and placing it in a shipping crate. The truck would be by tomorrow to pick it up.
“Your girl gave me a piece of her mind this morning,” I said as I walked over to him.
“What did you do?” He cut his eyes at me, turning slowly where he stood inspecting the wood in the cradle.
“What did I do? Seriously?”
“Umm, yeah. I swear you do anything you can to irritate her.”
“I was working, and she came stomping into the shop yelling at me that I was too loud.”
“What time was this?”
“I don't know? Five thirty or so?”
“I would have yelled at you too. Geez man, rude!”
“It's my house! Besides, it was just a sander. Not like I was using the chainsaw or anything.”
“It's our house, and now it’s hers, too. I know you have projects to finish and you work best in the early morning or late at night, but have you ever thought that maybe she would appreciate you not working at five in the fucking morning?”
I shook my head. I knew he was probably right. Maybe I should pay more attention to what is going on around me. I never had to before. Ryan could sleep through a hurricane, so no one ever complained. I just wasn't used to it.
“You’re right. I'll try, promise,” I said as I reached for my ax, looking over the blade. Running my fingers over it, I felt a small chip and flipped it to look at the other side, making a mental note to sharpen it later.
“Are we gonna chip some wood, or are you gonna love on that blade a little more?” Ryan raised an eyebrow looking over at me.
I grumbled under my breath and took a step toward him.
“Watch that blade. Ya look like you want to hit me with it,” he grinned.
“Ya think?” I sat it on the log I would be working on and reached back to pull my shirt over my head. Dropping it to the ground, I hopped on the log and waited for Ryan to tell me to go. I stood there waiting, but he didn't say anything. I looked up to find him looking over my shoulder. When I turned, Emmy was standing there watching us, cup of coffee in her hand, hip against the railing.
“Mornin,’” Ryan waved at her. I wanted to punch him in the chest.
I nodded my head at her before turning back around. I watched Ryan walk around me and then over to her. They started to chat, and I just stood there. I knew I should walk over and say hi, but I felt like after she ripped me apart this morning, maybe that wasn't the best idea. Rocking back and forth, I went through my movements and practiced in my head. I thought about where my mistakes were and mentally tried to fix them. I was so deep in thought that I didn't hear them when they walked over. Ryan was saying something to her, but I was so lost in thought, I couldn't have told you what he was saying if my life had depended on it.
“Luke,” he said.
I kind of heard him, but I was in a daze.
“LUKE!” he shouted less than a foot from my face.
“WHAT?” I barked back.
He nodded in Emmy’s direction, and I pulled back when I saw her take a step away, clearly thinking I was barking at her.
“I'm sorry I yelled at you this morning. I deserved that.” She said quietly.
“No, that wasn't meant for you. It was meant for numbnuts,” I pointed at Ryan who had the nerve to smirk at me. I still wanted to hit him. That must be a record for the first twenty minutes of our day.
“It's okay.” She shrugged.
“It really isn't. I should be the one apologizing. I’ll try to pay more attention to your schedule. I forget that everyone doesn’t sleep like Ryan. He sleeps like a log.”
“It's fine. I'll get used to it. But right now, I’m going to get some breakfast. I’ll just take a nap when you two are finished out here.” She smiled and then looked to Ryan. “I'll see you later, Ryan.” She turned and walked away. I watched her as she made her way over to the railing, picked up her coffee cup, and walked into her house. I whipped my body around, laser-focused on Ryan.
“You just can't help yourself, can you?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about nor what you may be implying.” Ryan squinted up at me.
“Why would you bring her over here?”
“Dude, I just went to say hi, and she asked if I thought she should apologize for yelling at you. I told her to do what she felt she needed to do.”
“I didn't need an apology. I just wanted to get a workout in before you have to be at work, and now we’ve lost twenty minutes.”
“What crawled up your ass and died? Don't be an asshat. We’re just going through the motions at this point, chill.”
“I need to have a good showing, as do you,” I pointed out.
“Look, I know this is important, and you want to win it all, but the title isn't as important to me. Me? I’ve found what I need in that wood shop in town. I want to compete cause you're my man, but I'm not doing it to follow in my father's footsteps like you.”
“So you're saying you don't want to compete anymore?”
“No, I'm saying that win or lose, I do it for the competition of it and to have fun. If we win awesome, but if not, that's okay too.”
“I know, and you also know that this will probably be the last year I do this. My furniture is taking off, and I have to have time to make real money. The competition money is good, but we spend most of it traveling. It doesn't pay the bills. This is my last chance.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here. But you don’t need to worry about the bills, dude. You'll always have a job at the mill. Dad has already talked about retiring, and I'll need your help.”
“If you need me, you know I’m there. No questions asked. Now, stop screwin’ around and help me practice.” I shoved him out of the way, and we set up to get a few runs in.
***
A couple of hours later, we wrapped up, and I went in the house for a shower. The water beat down on my skin for what seemed like minutes, but when it started to turn cold, I turned it off and stood there, head down arms steadying myself, thoughts running rampant.
My life had always been on track; at least, I’d always thought so. While my mom wanted me to find a girl and settle down, my own goals and a parade of crazy women I’d never even consider a long-term relationship with kept that from happening. Stepping out of the shower, I dried off as I walked to my room and then flopped on the bed with the towel around my waist. I looked over my head at the wall that separated my room from Emmy’s and thought about the woman on the other side of it.
Chapter Ten
Emerson
I laid in bed and thought about Luke, wondering why I couldn’t seem to stop myself from being so hard on him. I picked up my phone to call Rachel; if anyone could figure me out and make me stop being ridiculous over something, it was her. I tapped on the phone until it was ringing on the other end.
“Ummm, it’s Tuesday morning at...” she paused. “Seven thirty your time. Everything okay? You’re not exactly a morning person,” her chipper voice sang through the phone.
“Well, that depends on how ya look at it. And good morning to you too,” I laughed.
“Okay, you’re laughing. It’s much too early for you to be laughing. Are you drunk?”
“I’ve only had a few hours of sleep. Does that count?” I asked.
“In your case, kind of. So, what’s up buttercup? I can hear it in your voice.
Something’s on your mind.”
I sometimes hated that she knew me so well. “I’d try to say it’s nothing, but you’d just call me on my bullshit. So... it’s my neighbor,” I admitted.
“Oh! You mean the one you’ve got a thing for but won’t admit to yourself? Or anyone else for that matter?” she said matter-of-factly.
“What?” I said, a little surprised at her statement. “I don’t have a thing for my neighbor.”
She chuckled in that way she always did when she was about to humor me even though she didn’t agree with me. “Right. You don’t have a thing for the stupid hot guy next door who keeps trying to be nice to you and moves your furniture then makes your stomach go all butterfly central when he’s near you. Of course you don’t.”
Okay, maybe she wasn’t going to humor me.
“Admit it. That’s what you’re calling me about, isn’t it?” she demanded.
“No.”
“You’re a liar liar pants on fire, Emerson Myers,” she pointed out. I could almost hear the smirk on her face through the phone.
“Am not,” I shot back.
“Okay then. Why’d you call at this time of the morning? Hmmm?”
I huffed in defeat.
She laughed. “That’s what I thought. Now spill, what’s going on?”
I proceeded to tell her everything I had been holding back. She’d heard about how infuriated he’d made me causing me to stomp out to the shop the first night and his endless noise in the backyard, but this time, I found myself admitting to the attraction, the strange energy when he was near me, how I kept giving him such a hard time, and so much more.
When I was finished spilling my guts, she just said, “Hmmm.”
“Really? Hmmm? That’s all you’ve got?” I asked.
“Well, it’s like I said before. Only you just confirmed it. You’ve got a thing for the guy next door. That’s why you keep being so nasty to him. You’re pushing him away. I just don’t know why,” she said.
“Because he’s so... so...”
“So under your skin?” she finished the sentence.
