by Meg Collett
They spent the next couple hours going over counter choices and fixtures. She picked out wall colors and then changed her mind. She decided on new ones then doubted herself, but her excitement built as she finally began to imagine her new home.
Hale stayed patient with her, walking her through her options and telling her the pros and cons of quartz countertops versus granite, but Kyra liked soapstone. He sighed and leaned around her to gather up new soapstone options.
The press of his body sent a feverish set of chills through her; she liked the feel of him sitting next to her. His rough voice right beside her ear made her throat close. Her body came alive, quiet shivers cascading down her spine just from being close to him.
She really hoped he couldn’t tell.
“Oh, that one!” she exclaimed over a beautiful mint green color. “I want that for the outside of the house.”
“No,” Hale said, his voice flat.
“What?” Kyra asked, surprised. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It looks like explosive diarrhea.” Hale raised his eyebrows at her, like she was crazy for even picking it.
“It does not!” Kyra laughed. “It’s really cute!”
“It’s disgustingly ugly. I can’t paint a house I’ve worked on that color. It’s bad for business.”
“Do we need to go over who hired who?” Kyra asked, smiling sweetly. Somehow, he’d made her feel better, and he’d made her laugh. “I want that color.”
Hale rubbed his eyes like she was insufferable. “Fine,” he said reluctantly. Kyra whooped with joy. She jumped up and danced a little.
“I’m going to have the prettiest house on the street!” She fist-pumped.
Hale watched her without speaking, staring inside her again and seeing past the prettiness and long legs and good body. He was seeing her, dancing like an idiot in her demolished kitchen. And he seemed to like what he saw.
Kyra stopped, every cell in her body hushing under his gaze. She couldn’t help the smile creeping across her face as they watched each other unabashed. His green eyes sparkled as he drank her in.
This wasn’t faking it.
Not even close.
seven
Oh, my gosh.”
Kyra stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Two days worth of sweat, sea water, and dirt layered her hair. Where she’d slept the night before, one side was flat, while the other stuck up like she was an electrocuted rooster.
She couldn’t make a video like this. She couldn’t even look at herself. Scrunching her nose up, she quickly turned away and pulled on a ball cap.
Downstairs was already a flurry of activity. The plumbers had come yesterday like Hale had said. He’d met with them to look for any issues on getting the pipes up to code after he’d helped Kyra pick out some options for the house. She hadn’t heard the outcome of the plumbing evaluation, but the crew was working hard to get the house up to code so they could pass the electrical and plumbing inspection.
Hale was easy to find. She heard his voice in the back and followed the flutter in her stomach. She tugged the brim of her cap lower as she made her way over to where he was directing an electrician.
She cleared her throat when the conversation was over. “Good morning.”
Hale turned, his eyes looking her up and down. “Morning.”
“Uh, do you know when the water will be turned back on?” she asked, refusing to be flustered under his gaze. She smelled like a sweaty cow; she couldn’t be checking out guys right now.
“Feeling gross?” The corner of his mouth twitched at his question, like he could read her mind or something equally terrifying.
“You have no idea. When is it happening?”
“Lunchtime. Plumbers will be done by then,” Hale said. Someone called his name from the front of the house. “Gotta run.”
The electrician Hale had just been talking to regarded Kyra in her ball cap. “Hey. Wanna go out some—”
“No.”
Kyra took off for the back door and scurried across her back porch. She rushed around to Stevie’s house and knocked on the front door. No one answered. She spent the next five minutes banging on every door and window within reach. Even though Stevie was clearly home—her car was parked in the narrow alley between their houses—Kyra remained standing in Stevie’s bushes, feeling like a dirty weirdo.
She made her way back to her house and up the stairs. The electrician gave her a mean look as she passed, but she ignored him. She needed to feel gross in her own room with the door closed. All she had to do was make it until lunchtime.
Before she set down to work, she lit a few candles and coated herself with body spray. Finally, she was able to focus on editing some videos. She posted one today about her favorite products for the summer, which she’d been working on for several weeks. She hit up all her social media sites to check in and respond to comments. Most of the interactions she had were fun and respectful, but she always had a few who insisted on being disgusting or degrading. Kyra found that it was easy to feel good about yourself and ignore people’s harsh criticisms when you had the safety of a computer between you and the other person. Maybe that’s why she enjoyed her job so much.
And maybe that’s way she found that she had to fake it when she was around people in real life.
Lunchtime rolled around, and Kyra sprung from her bed. She tested the water in her bathroom sink, relieved to see a gush of spewing, sputtering water exploding from the pipes. The only problem was her bathroom only had a bath, and she desperately needed a shower. A long, steaming-hot shower. She grabbed her toiletries and some new clothes before she hurried to the downstairs bathroom.
Only then did she remember why this bathroom wasn’t in useable condition yet.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Kyra dropped her toiletries onto the ripped-up tile floors of the bathroom and groaned. She felt like having a temper tantrum as she took in the flapping plastic sheet that covered the gaping hole where a window had been. She remembered now that Hale had to take it out and get a tempered replacement glass, but that didn’t help her now. She needed a shower.
She tested the water in the shower. It spewed forth in hot, pressured glory. Kyra chewed on her lip and looked at the plastic sheet again. It had been a large window, meaning the hole it left behind was extra…gaping. She leaned into the shower and looked through the plastic. It faced the side alley of the house.
She knew the crew normally parked in the back and walked around. But they were at lunch, and she just needed a quick shower. A very quick, hot, steamy shower.
“That’s it.”
Kyra stripped as fast as she could and hopped in the shower, moaning out loud as the hot water pounded onto her skin. She lathered up her hair and scrubbed her body with fierce intensity. Balancing on one leg, she shaved quickly, nicking her skin a few times.
By the time Kyra was rinsing out her conditioner, she felt a little more human. She leaned her head into the spray, arching her back and enjoying the feel of the scalding water working its magic over her. She smiled in complete and utter sensual pleasure. Showering was divine.
“What are you looking at?”
Kyra jumped at the sound of Hale’s voice. She peeked through the curtain and into the house. No one had come in, and the bathroom door was still closed. With horror building in the pit of her stomach, she slowly turned her head to the plastic.
Please, no, she prayed.
Hale’s entire crew stood outside staring with open mouths at her. They seemed as surprised as she did, although some of them looked as if they were enjoying the show. Only sweet, older Chevy averted his eyes, his cheeks flaming red. Hale appeared, looking up at the window to see what all the fuss is about.
“Is something wrong…oh.” His voice trailed off as he began to snicker, and soon, he and most of his crew were bent over double, laughing at her.
Snapping out of her temporary shock, she screamed and dropped below the view of the
window, covering herself with her arms and hands. She tumbled out of the shower and sprawled onto the floor in a wet, slippery mess. Grabbing a towel and jerking it around her, she army-crawled out of the bathroom.
She was in a dead sprint up the stairs when the door opened and Hale came in. “Are you decent?” he called, laughing.
She screamed in frustration and slammed her door.
“Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh.” Kyra sank to the floor, her body shaking in embarrassment. How was she ever going to go downstairs again? Parading around in a bikini was one thing. Being seen naked and laughed at was an entirely different situation.
Hale thought it was funny, which had Kyra simmering in shivering anger. If her mortification hadn’t been so off-the-charts, she would’ve stomped down the stairs and yelled at him. Instead, she dressed in her pajamas and crawled into bed.
She was done with today. Done.
She picked up her phone and texted Stevie.
Kyra: I hate you so much right now
A minute later, her phone beeped. She scowled at her phone as she read the text message from Stevie.
Stevie: You and half this street. What’s up?
Kyra: I came over to your house this AM to take a shower. But you didn’t answer! So I had to take one at lunchtime when the plumbers turned the water back on.
Kyra waited impatiently for Stevie’s answer. Maybe she hadn’t known Stevie that long, but she felt comfortable giving Stevie hell for not answering her door. She wasn’t really mad at her friend, but it felt good to vent.
Stevie: Glad you don’t stink anymore. What’s the problem?
Kyra: Oh, nothing too major. JUST THE ENTIRE CREW SEEING ME BUTT NAKED!!!! They LAUGHED at me.
Stevie: Assholes. You probably gave them all hard-ons. Let me make it up to you. We’ll go out tonight and party.
Stevie: I know you’re about to say you don’t drink, but you’ve had a shit-tastic day. Live a little.
Kyra: Okay, fine.
Stevie: Did HALE see you naked? Meow!
Kyra rolled her eyes. Of course Stevie would think that was hot. Maybe it would’ve been if the entire crew hadn’t been with him. She blew a drying lock of hair out of her face.
Kyra: Yes. He did. NOT COOL.
Stevie: You say that now. But he’s probably picturing your naked body right as we type.
A knock came on Kyra’s door, making her gasp. “Kyra? You in there?”
It was Hale, conjured by Stevie’s text. Kyra covered her head and hid under her covers, but her phone beeped and gave her away. “Come on. I heard your phone. I know you’re in there,” he called through the door. “Can I come in?”
“Go away!” she shouted, the sound muffled from under her covers.
He sighed. The door groaned, and Kyra wondered if he was propped against it. She pictured his hard, muscular body pressed against the wood and realized she really needed an intervention.
“Look, I’m really sorry about earlier.”
“You laughed at me!” she shouted back.
Hale stifled another laugh. She reared up in bed and threw her pillow at the door. It hit its target with a satisfying thud. “I’m sorry about that too,” he said, muffling another laugh.
“You’re laughing now!”
“No, I’m not. You just caught us by surprise is all,” he said.
“Whatever, Hale. Just go away,” Kyra lay back down in bed and covered her head.
“Okay,” he said, “but I really am sorry. Again.”
He didn’t sound sorry, she thought. She grimaced and buried her head even deeper. After thirty minutes under the covers, Kyra found that she wasn’t the napping kind. She got out of bed and worked until the house fell silent and the sun began to set.
She rose from the floor and stretched her back, thinking that she really needed to get a working desk. Stevie had texted and told her to meet her at her house in an hour. Kyra heaved a sigh to fortify herself before she started getting ready.
She settled on a sheer shirt with a bright pink tank top underneath and jean shorts. Her hair had dried in her natural beachy waves, so she let it be. She took more time with her makeup, feeling like she needed some armor for tonight, and she craved to look pretty. No way would anybody be laughing at her tonight. The smoky colors of her eye shadow set off the bright blue of her irises. She swiped on some lip gloss and grabbed her favorite wedges before she left the house.
Stevie was waiting on her front porch, wearing cute jeans and a peplum top with high heels. “You look hot!” she called as she skipped to Kyra with a huge grin plastered on her face. She was drunk.
“I guess I’m driving?” Kyra asked, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.
“If you don’t mind.” Stevie was already heading for Kyra’s Jeep.
They talked about the fiasco today as Kyra drove them into town. Stevie apologized again for not answering the door, but she didn’t sound too regretful since it was so hilarious to her. The sting was starting to wear off, so Kyra could finally laugh about it too. Stevie directed them to a bar on the corner of the main street in town, which was lit up with lights in the trees like it was Christmas.
Loud music flowed out to the street as they got out the car. People milled about out front, smoking and flirting. Inside was dimly lit, and televisions played different sports, just like any other bar.
Kyra lifted her chin and followed Stevie through the crowd. She was surprised to see how packed it was, but Stevie knew where she was going. She steered them over to the bar, sliding along the back wall and finding them two barstools.
“How did you see these?” Kyra shouted into Stevie’s ear.
Stevie pointed to a guy with long hair and chiseled arms behind the bar. “Troy saves me seats when I come in.” She waved when Troy blew her kiss. He made his way over.
“The usual?” he asked. Stevie gave him a thumbs-up. “And what about you?” he asked Kyra.
“Water, please.”
Stevie rolled her eyes and groaned, but Troy nodded, moving away to take more orders and mix Stevie’s drink. Kyra looked around the room, taking in all the bodies at the bar and the ones dancing to the live band. Troy brought their drinks, handing Stevie a Long Island iced tea. They flirted for a moment before Troy left.
“Who’s he?” Kyra shouted, leaning close to Stevie.
She waggled her brows at Kyra and said, “We hang out some—if you know what I mean. Isn’t he hot?”
Kyra looked back over her shoulder at Troy. He caught her stare and winked. Sure, she guessed he was hot. “He’s cute!”
“He’s no Hale, huh?” Stevie poked her in the ribs.
“Whatever,” she said, laughing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, he’s standing right over there.”
Kyra started, following Stevie’s pointed finger. Her eyes landed on Hale’s just as he saw her and Stevie. He stood against the end of the bar with Cade and a group of guys from his construction crew that Kyra recognized. His green eyes cut through the dim bar and scalded her; she knew he was picturing her naked by the way his eyes danced with amusement. The brow with the piercings cocked, his lips twisting into a smirk.
“Oh, yeah,” Stevie called. “He wants you.”
“He does not!”
Stevie went on for a little longer, pointing out different people to Kyra. Troy brought over two more Long Islands. They flirted shamelessly, but Stevie was having fun, and Kyra found herself relaxing.
A hand settled on the back of her chair, causing her to stiffen. Hot beer breath leaned down into her hair. “Hey, sexy.”
Kyra looked over her shoulder. A guy about her age with gelled hair and an Affliction shirt was undressing her with his eyes. “Hey,” Kyra said, but her voice was uninviting.
“Wanna dance?” The guy’s eyes were all over Kyra’s body. He pressed into her, nearly knocking her off her chair and gagging her on his cologne.
“No, thanks. I’m not a big dancer,” Kyr
a responded, looking away.
The guy kept on, his hand creeping onto her back. “Oh come on, baby. Let me feel that hot body.”
Kyra glanced back, her bitch face in place. “The only thing you’ll be feeling tonight is yourself through a sock.”
The guy recoiled. He opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly closed it and turned away, but not before Kyra caught the flash of fear in his eyes as he left. She looked over her other shoulder.
“Hale,” she breathed.
“Hey, Kyra.”
Her name sounded rough in his mouth, and Kyra instantly knew he would kiss like he talked: raspy and with enough heat to set her hair on fire. He had his arm around her chair before anyone else could come up and talk to her. She knew by the way he propped his leg on the bottom of her stool and leaned against the bar that he was staking out his territory. It was basic bar real estate, and she enjoyed it for the first time ever.
“Thanks for running that guy off,” Kyra said over the blare of the band.
Hale leaned closer, his skin a mere breath from hers. The heat of his body slicked against her skin like a warm blanket. Her stomach fluttered upward, twisting and spinning. “What was that?” he asked, not hearing her.
“I said thanks for running that guy off. He was creepy,” Kyra spoke into his ear.
He turned his head and looked back into her eyes. “Every guy in here was thinking about coming over. He was just the first to work up the courage.”
“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes.
“Do you forgive me for today?” he asked.
“You didn’t sound that sorry,” she shouted. Stevie was talking to Troy, leaning over the bar and pressing her boobs into the wood.
Hale said something, but Kyra didn’t hear. “What?” she called.
He leaned even closer, his chest pressing into her. His arm wrapped around her back and pulled her closer as he lowered his head. For a crazy, shivering moment, she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he leaned into her ear and said, “I wasn’t sorry.”
