Page 8 of The Ghost of You

Great, so she is not handy at all. Of course, if she was, she would have figured out how to turn it off to begin with.

“This place have a basement?” I ask.

She nods. “Yeah, it’s—ugh out the back.” Her eyes are still fixated on my lower abdomen.

I head out of the bathroom but stop next to her. “I’ll let you touch them later if you want.”

That snaps her out of it. “What? Oh my god. No. I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s been... never mind. This way.”

I follow her out the door that leads to the back yard. She walks around the side of the building and pulls out keys.

I walk down the stairs, finding a light switch along the way. I follow the pipes and find the hot water tank in a corner of the basement. I crank an old spigot and the pipes creak as I shut off the water supply.

“That might have shut off the entire building.”

“Okay, I’ll text my neighbor.”

I nod and head back toward the staircase. “You might want to call your landlord. Have him come fix this.”

“I did.”

I walk out the door to the basement and turn around to face Anna. “And?”

“He’s out of town,” she answers, sounding depleted.

I rub the back of my neck. “For how long?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. His voicemail said he would be out of town for a while and to leave a message.”

“You’re kidding.”

She shakes her head. “Nope. Wish I was. But maybe I’ll get lucky and he will call back soon.”

“Fingers crossed.”

She grips her head, pulling on her hair. “Ugh, I just wanted to take a shower after yoga.” She looks down at herself. “I guess I got one.”

I chuckle. “Probably not the kind you wanted. You can use mine.” I look down at my watch and see it’s nearly three. “Shit. I need to be at work in an hour. I am going to shower quick. Then you can come over and use mine.”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind? I need to work at Jimmy’s tonight. Don’t want to smell like sweat. If it was the Beer Garden I wouldn’t care, that place already smells like feet.”

I smile at her. “And stale beer.”

“And poor decisions.”

“And horny twenty-one-year olds.”

She smiles back at me. “Please tell me you haven’t let him live that down.”

“You should have seen him at family dinner this past Sunday. My mom nearly beat his ass when one of my brothers spilled the beans.”

She bites her lip and it’s one of the most adorable things I’ve seen. “I really hope I don’t run into him again. I don’t know who would be more embarrassed.”

“You know, his friends bet him twenty bucks for every girl he did that to, of course he asked for permission first. I think the alcohol was hitting him too hard when he got to you. No need to be embarrassed.”

She smiles up at me through loose pieces of hair. “What number was I?”

“Thirteen. The last one of the night.”

---