“What would you need?”
“Bank statements, basically. And you’d have to help me classify your expenses.”
“If you do that, I can’t let you pay for the bed.”
Oh, look, an excuse to spend hours with Rob. High School Me shouted in elation, but she also bitched about what a stupid reason it was to hang out with him. There was nothing sexy about formulating a monthly budget.
“Then a trade definitely benefits me.”
He nodded, finishing his cake. “Avery won’t be back from Omaha until next month, so this is a good time to figure things out.”
“I thought you said she was visiting her cousin for the weekend.”
A sigh escaped him. “Yeah, well, I got it wrong. She left early to spend time with her cousin. Then today, she started a management training seminar. She’ll be back in March. I think.” But he didn’t sound sure. “I have to really piss her off to get that tone.”
“Which one?”
“‘Jesus, do you even listen to a word I say’?” He captured her icy snap so well, a shudder went through me.
I can’t believe she talks to him like that.
Before I could decide how to respond, he went on, “It’s a good thing I’m hot, right?” Under most circumstances, that would qualify as a cocky remark—one that was supposed to make me laugh—but the underlying sadness I’d glimpsed in him before rebounded, lending him a stark, shadowed air.
I weighed my response before saying, “That’s not all you are, Rob.”
He got up and took his plate to the sink. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
Shock reverberated through me. I’d said the same thing in Michigan when I rejected a guy who wanted to date me. Luckily Rob’s back was to me, so he didn’t notice my reaction. I schooled my expression, so by the time he turned around, I was clearing the table.
“I’ve known you longer than Avery.” While they’d been dating since October, I had been wandering around his house since second grade.
“That’s true.”
In a tone I’d use for an oral report, I said, “When I was in fourth grade, you carried my science fair project to the gym for me, even though you had to walk six blocks to the junior high afterward, and you got detention. That same year, you got into a fight with Ellis Whitcomb over Melissa Fredericks. She would later become your first high school girlfriend, though not the last. That honor went to Katie Everett, who you dated right up until she left for college.”
And then she left without a second look. Maybe I should change this up.
“When I was a junior, you punched Kent Walker for me, and my senior year, you took me to see my dad for the first time in seven years.”
My mom still didn’t know about that, and at the time, I was so mad at her, sure it was her fault—that she’d driven him away somehow. I blamed them in stages, back and forth, like the clicking balls in a Newton’s cradle. Back then, Rob drove a different truck, an old green one passed down from his granddad, nicknamed Tessa Green-tea for reasons known only to Rob. I’d cornered him in the garage while he was working on the engine. Nadia had been upstairs doing homework, and she thought I’d gone to the kitchen for a snack. Instead, I’d slipped outside and shuffled around until Rob straightened and faced me.
At twenty-one, he’d been leaner, with less muscle built over years of summer construction jobs. “Need something?”
“I was wondering if you’d do me a favor.”
“Depends on what it is.”
My breath came out in a shaky rush. “I need to see my dad. I have to talk to him.”
I’d had a horrendous fight with my mom. Her apathy and apparent lack of self-respect—the way she could barely manage to go through the motions—had made me scream at her, Just look at yourself. I so get why he left you. I’d planned to race to my dad’s side and tell him I understood everything now and please, can’t I be part of your awesome new life? A fresh start away from the rumors about my mother’s sanity had sounded perfect, what I wanted most.
Rob had wiped his hands on a rag, then said, “What did your mom say?”
“She doesn’t know. Will you take me? I can give you gas money.” At the time, Nadia had her license and a car. I could’ve asked her to drive me but I was afraid she’d punk out and blab to my mom about the plan. Why I had no such fear with him, to this day, I didn’t understand.
“Why don’t you call him?”
“I just need to see him. Please, Rob?” What I didn’t tell him was that I didn’t plan on coming home. I’d live with my dad from then on; my mom could ship my clothes, presuming she could manage it. Whatever, I’d buy more. I just wanted out. Her depression had only made my issues worse, and it had been all I could do to sit through a school day. It would be different with my dad; everything would be fine.
In the end, Rob had sighed and agreed.
With his help, I found my dad, unemployed, living in a shitty apartment with some woman I’d never heard of, apparently raising a couple of her kids. One might’ve been his—I was too upset to get the facts straight. But the worst part was, he didn’t even look happy to see me. To him, I was a nuisance. He invited us in, but we didn’t stay longer than half an hour, after coming all that way. Out in the parking lot, I burst into tears and Rob just hugged me. He didn’t say anything at all, probably because he knew no words could make it better. So there was no way I’d let him disparage himself now when he’d been proving his worth my entire life.
“I remember that,” he said finally.
“Me, too.”
The silence between us was odd and fraught, laced with old memories. I wondered if he had any idea that I used to crouch beneath the banisters and watch him with Katie Everett. In my head, he was still the gold standard for kissing, just endless tenderness without rushing straight for boobs or butt. Though four of the eight guys I’d slept with were good in bed, none had that quintessential Rob patience, and if he’d been that way in high school, his control as a man must be awe-inspiring.
Lucky Avery.
I siphoned the bitterness out of the thought as he studied my face. I’d never noticed him doing that before, but I felt each shift and slip of his gaze, as if his eyes were zoom lenses. My heart thumped so hard in my chest that I was afraid he’d hear it. Really, I should be over this.
“Do you mind if I take some measurements in your bedroom?”
Do anything you want in there.
“Go ahead. I do that all the time for fun. I’m like, ‘I wonder if this wall is ten or eleven feet long. Let’s find out!’” My voice came out manic-perky.
Rob cut me a strange look as he brushed by and headed for the stairs. He was efficient with the tape measuring, checking the spot my new bed would occupy. But having him up here made me want to die because it reinforced every preconception he must have about my maturity. I sat on a stuffed unicorn and hated my life.
But then he surprised me by saying, “I can see why you’re redecorating. It’s been a long time, huh?”
Grateful, I beamed up at him. “Yeah.”
Smiling back, he tapped the tip of my nose. “So when do you want to work on my spreadsheet?”
I shrugged. “It’s not like I have a job. And I meant to tell you, if I was remotely helpful the other day, I’m glad to pitch in again, anytime you need me.”
“If