If I Could - B. Celeste Page 0,44
watch him follow suit, taking the pathway up to my front door only a foot or so behind me. “You might as well stop pretending that bothers you, Scout. If you hated my company that much, you would have said so.”
His silence only makes me grin wider as I undo the locks and push the door open, letting him close it behind him. As I grab drinks and meet him in the living room, he looks at the freshly painted walls—a light green—that he helped me finish last week. The first room to be repainted was the god-awful pink bathroom, followed closely by the purple living room. Now all of them are tolerable with decent furniture in each one san the spare room upstairs that only has a few empty shelves lining the walls. Reece hasn’t asked again why I haven’t unpacked my old trophies and pictures yet. They sit in the boxes piled against the far side of the room, collecting dust. My mother would have a conniption if she knew I wasn’t taking care of them.
Maybe that’s why. My parents love me, but they loved me even more when they could brag about their baseball-playing son. The one going to the big leagues and getting signed to a famous team. My decision didn’t just impact me, it affected them too. I don’t know if they tell their friends I coach now, or if they find ways to change the topic when my new life is broached. I’m not sure I want to know.
“So, is there really a plumping problem?” he asks, accepting the bottle of water while I sip my Gatorade.
“The upstairs sink has a leak,” I tell him, knowing it’s not a hard fix. I could do it myself once I borrowed some tools from him or one of my neighbors, but then my white lie would be pointless, and the blond lit nerd examining my casual expression would feel guilty.
“That’s your big emergency?”
I can’t help but bust his balls. “You know, I can give Harper a call and let her know it’s all fixed. I’m sure she and Michelle would love to meet us after all tonight.”
His eye twitches. “Want to show me the problem with it?” is all he asks, but I can tell he’s thinking, dick.
It takes him about ten seconds to see the problem without me needing to explain it thanks to the towels piled on the floor in front of the sink. He stares at them, then looks up at me with a brow quirked. When I shrug, smile innocently, and sip my drink again, he shakes his head and gets to work.
A few minutes later, he’s on the floor with the towels pushed to the side, tightening a couple things with his hands. I sit on the ledge of the bathtub and watch, not missing the way the muscles in his arms fill out his shirt sleeves, which are shown off in the hunter green t-shirt he’s changed into since school ended. He doesn’t do casual often, but he does it well.
When he abruptly stops, I wonder if he knows I’m staring. If I were anyone else, I may be embarrassed over potentially getting caught, but I don’t look away. “Thank you for doing what you did today.” There’s a pause, and I watch his chest slowly rise and fall. “I appreciate it.”
I don’t point out that there will be other times when the possibility of another double date, or even a single one, will arise. Michelle has proven that she’s persistent if nothing else and doesn’t want to take no for an answer. And Harper? I have a feeling when she thaws, she won’t be any different. Unlike Reece, I could picture myself considering a date with the redhead someday. At least, the old me could. I would dazzle her with my witty conversation, charm her with some drinks, and then take her home. That’s where I’d really impress her.
But my insistence on not involving myself so quickly with the locals has derailed those temptations. That, and the man sprawled on my bathroom floor fixing my sink. The one I might have tampered with this morning. I’m also aware there’s a chance that said man knows it.
“No problem.”
He’s back to work a few seconds later, coaxing us back into silence. I don’t mind it. I never do when it’s between friends because it’s not uncomfortable or awkward. And he doesn’t seem to mind the fact that I’m watching him either,