“My tools and stuff are in here. I already bought the wood to fix the porch, but then never got around to it. I had a handyman once who was supposed to do it, but he never got around to it either.”
He turns in a circle with his hands on his hips before picking up the hot pink tool belt from the top of the wood pile and slinging it around his hips.
I’m at a loss for words at how adorably hot he looks with a pink hammer at his thigh.
“I think I’ve got everything I need,” he says with a smile, tightening the belt around his hips. “I’ll give you a holler if I need ya.”
“You sure?” I ask, guilty about leaving him out here all by himself. Sweat from the humidity is already breaking out on his forehead, and I almost swoon at what a good look it is for him.
What the hell is happening here? This morning was just a regular day, and now Derrick is wearing my toolbelt.
“Scram, Cobra. I got this.” He winks at me, grinning ear to ear, before physically pushing me out of the stuffy, sticky shed. I hesitate for a moment, but then turn on my heel, running for my cell phone.
There’s only one person I can trust in a time like this. Persephone Russo. My best friend.
Me: Help! I need your help! I am so fucked.
Persephone: Really? What kind of fucked. The bad kind, or the I need to rest my private parts kind?
Me: The three ways to Sunday kind.
Persephone: Well, stop freaking out and tell me about it. Let Aunty Seph fix all your problems.
I can’t help but feel the wash of relief that pours through me. Even though she’s only 32, she’s got the spirit of an old drunken grandmother. The kind that’s been everywhere and done everything and who only shares her wisdom over a martini and a smoke.
I hit the button to video chat, and it doesn’t even finish one ring before her face takes up my screen.
“So, what’s the problem?” she drawls from what looks like a break room. Someone passes behind her before I hear a door squeak. She’s a nurse, and as such has been pulling insane hours the last few weeks. Normally, I wouldn’t be so open with the threat of other people around, but I’m too worked up to care at this point.
“So, Derrick, my brother’s best friend since they were kids, is an airline pilot. And the planes are grounded. And he just happened to be in Atlanta, or on his way to Atlanta, when all this shit went down, and now he’s wearing my pink toolbelt, and on his hands and knees examining my porch.”
Her eyebrows raise at my nonsensical rambling, but she doesn’t try to interrupt me.
“And he’s cute, and super flirty, and I maybe had an itty bitty tiny little crush on him when we were kids, and I don’t know how I’m going to last with him living in my house for the foreseeable future. Can you, like, come stay with us too, or something? So that I don’t spend the next, oh I don’t know, infinity, making a fool out of myself?”
She sits down in a chair, bringing a mug of coffee to her lips to blow on the rising steam.
“Is that a euphemism? Or is he actually looking at the porch? And how cute are we talking? Justin Timberlake with the afro cute, or Jason Momoa coming out of the water?”
I walk to the window, casting my gaze around for Derrick. He’s stripped off his shirt and is only wearing jeans and a grey muscle shirt. He put on the pair of gloves the last handyman left behind and is staring at the porch, with the tape measure in his hands. I hit the button to change the video on my phone to front facing, so she gets a view of Derrick through the glass.
“Wow. Bone him. STAT,” comes from the five-inch screen in my hands. I peek a glance down at her, then go back to watching Derrick. He catches me staring from the window and smiles, and I give a wave before backing away and collapsing onto the couch, changing the video back to me.
“Thanks a lot, Seph. This is exactly the pep-talk I needed. NOT. You’re supposed to be helping me keep my hormones in check for the next however long, not encouraging me to let the beast out.”
She rolls her eyes at me as she brings her coffee to her lips.
“First, you don’t have a beast. You know it, I know it, we all know it. You have a timid little bunny rabbit that runs away at the first sight of fun. Second of all, why can’t you do him? It’s not like you have a lot of other options. See point one.”
“You’re a bitch. And a horrible human being, and because he’s my brother’s best friend!”
“Even more reason to do him. The forbidden act will make it hot. Besides, he looks like he could break your curse. And you know what they say, if at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. If he’s really stuck there with you with no end in sight, there’s gonna be a hell of a lot of time to try.” She sounds positively giddy.
I growl in frustration, throwing my phone onto the cushion next to me. Then I grab it back up, and politely flip her the bird. Not to be outdone, she pretends to suck a dick. Man, I hope no one is there with her.
“Let me ask you this. What kind of flirty are we talking about here?”
I pop my chewie between my teeth, already blushing at the thought of it.
“Umm, he referred to himself as a stray dog, then told me his sister lets her dog sleep in her bed.”
Persephone whistles in appreciation.
“Well okay then. Look, as far as I can tell, this is a perfect situation for you. There’s a gorgeous man trapped in your house giving you tons of signals he’d like to get in your pants. I don’t see what the problem is.” She lowers her voice, her tone taking on a sincere quality. “Why don’t you use this opportunity, while you’re literally stuck in your comfort zone, to get out of your comfort zone a little. Loosen up, have some fun. You could use a little unpredictability in your life.”
An mmmm sound slips between my lips as I take my worry out on my chewie.
“You could always send him to stay with me if you want.”
She’s laughing as I throw my phone back onto the cushions.
Chapter 3
Derrick
Twenty-four hours. It’s barely been a whole day, yet I’m quietly dying inside.
Of horniness.
“What do you do for fun?” I ask.
We’re sitting at the kitchen table, the puzzle pushed carefully to the corner to give us just enough space to put our plates down.
She made homemade pizza for dinner, and it was amazing. I’m not sure why I’m so surprised. Maybe because every other woman I know considers food homemade if the person she bought it from made it from scratch. Shelby even has a pizza stone. I didn’t realize you could buy those.
She turns those big baby blue eyes at me, and my dick starts to stir in my pants.
She’s your best friend’s baby sister.
She’s different than the type of girl I usually go for. My hookups are usually completely put together. Not a hair out place, makeup perfectly applied. Blonde or brunette, tall and skinny, they almost look as if they were manufactured on an assembly line.
Shelby, well, she couldn’t be more dissimilar if she tried. Her hair is shaved on the sides and long on top, a shade of pink so pale as to almost be white. When it’s down, like it is now, you can’t even tell its shaved underneath. When it’s off of her neck, she looks like a badass rocker chick.