run. He’d done more than enough by providing me the space and the tools to work on the sign.
I passed the chisel from hand to hand, stared down the wood, and then, with some trepidation, got to work.
I quickly fell into the zone and lost track of time. Once I made the first notch in the wood, it was like all the fear and uncertainty fell away, replaced by the simple rhythm of carving. It really was simply like a larger whittling project. And just like the smaller hunks of wood, there was something waiting to be freed from this one, too. I could feel it the logo hiding in the center of the slab of wood, the words circling it.
I leaned over to the very center of the slab and began notching out the logo.
Time passed. I got lost in the familiar motions of carving, and I was nearly done with the early outline of the logo when a tap on my shoulder startled me so badly I nearly swung my elbow back and into the offender’s face. I stopped myself at the last second and swore loudly.
“Fuck!” Brennan said in surprise as he jumped back, too.
I turned around and leaned against the slab of wood with a sigh. “Jeez, sorry, you scared me,” I admitted. “I was a little locked into the zone there.”
“I see that now,” Brennan said with a chuckle. “Sorry for scaring you. Should’ve knocked.”
“It’s your shop,” I said. “Sorry I almost attacked you.”
Brennan laughed, which made me laugh, too. “No worries. I’m a little jumpy myself.”
“I noticed that,” I admitted. “When we were cutting down the tree. You about kicked Gretel in the face when she surprised you with a bark.”
Brennan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Shit, was that obvious? Can’t help it. I’m like a jumpy dog myself. Can’t even have a normal toaster because I get too nervous waiting for the toast to pop up. Always makes me jump.”
I barked a surprised laugh. “You’re not being serious.”
“As a heart attack,” Brennan said. “I usually make it in the oven just to avoid a real toaster.”
“Hey, whatever works,” I said with a laugh. “Gotta admit, though, that’s a pretty desperate situation.”
“When I was broke and living with roommates, they banned me from using the toaster at all because I always shrieked and woke them up in the mornings,” Brennan said. “It’s an affliction.”
I laughed louder, setting the chisel aside. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Now you have to tell me something embarrassing about you,” Brennan said. “Since you found out my toaster-phobia.”
I straightened up, no longer laughing, but still sharing a smile with Brennan.
Share something embarrassing? The first thing that jumped to mind was my dropping out of school. My shitty fucking inability to read.
And I almost said it. The words danced on the tip of my tongue. But that wasn’t really embarrassing, was it? It was just shameful. Pathetic. It wasn’t a cute and funny quirk like being surprised by loud noises. It was just—a pitiful truth I had to deal with. A major obstacle in my entire life.
He wasn’t asking for that. And even if I wanted to, I knew I wasn’t ready to reveal that to him. No doubt he’d judge me. No doubt he’d realize he didn’t want to be with some loser who couldn’t read—that his first judgments about me were right.
“Lemme think about it,” I deflected.
Brennan’s face fell, but he didn’t push. I shoved down the guilt I felt. I hated being the one to cause that expression on his face. But it was better than revealing my secret.
“What’s up?” I asked. “Did you need something?”
“Right,” Brennan said with a nod. “I was just coming to see if you wanted something to eat.”
I blinked.
“It’s dinner time,” Brennan said. “You’ve been working for six hours. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Six hours?” I asked, shocked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Brennan said. “You didn’t realize?”
“No,” I admitted. “I got a little caught up in the project, I guess.”
“Well, come inside and have some dinner,” Brennan said. “You earned it.”
“No, I can’t,” I said automatically, without even really considering his offer. I just knew I couldn’t—too many more chances to fuck up and say the wrong thing. “I’ve got to get back to the club. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
There was that disappointed expression again. “Well, at least let me see what you’ve been working on,” he said.
I stepped aside with a little hesitation. It was coming along, but it wasn’t anywhere close to finished. It