Page 27 of She Was Made for Me

I let my breath out slowly. She has a point there.

“Well, yeah,” I begin, “at first I was a little annoyed that you didn’t seem to know much about the remodel. But I can tell you’ve been working hard to catch up.” I meet her steely gaze. There’s something about being here at night with her that feels so different to the time we spend together during the day. Something that nudges me to say, “I definitely don’t want you to leave.”

Her eyebrows tug together under her bangs. “Then why have you been so difficult? When we met in Joe’s you were nice and we really clicked, but working with you… you’re like a totally different person.”

“I know,” I mumble. Ihavebeen a different person—a person I don’t even recognize. Gone is the carefree guy up in Maine who never takes on more than he can handle, who lives a carefully constructed life to ensure he stays mentally and emotionally healthy. Now I’m the guy who’s worried he’s taken on a job that’s too big for him, the guy who’s developed inappropriate feelings for his best friend’s daughter. I’ve become the guy who has trouble falling asleep at night, whose ears are ringing from the creeping sense of anxiety about it all.

I wipe a hand down my face, frustrated. My cheek still tingles from her gentle touch, and I’m desperate to tell her the truth—that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since we met, and working with her is only making it worse. But I know that once I tell her, I can’t take that back, and I’m not sure what it will do to our working relationship.

Worse, I’m not sure what it would do to my relationship with Rich.

“I’m sorry, Vi. The truth is, I have found it difficult working with you.” I’m trying to walk the fine line between not revealing too much while still being honest with her. She looks hurt and I shake my head, quick to add, “It’s not your work ethic, or your knowledge of the project. You’ve impressed me with how much you’ve learned in such a short time.”

She crosses her arms, her brows still low. “Then what is it?”

I rub the back of my neck, avoiding her gaze. I hate this. It’s not fair for her to be in this position.

“I… I can’t really explain.” I want to leave it there, but in the dim light of the basement I hear myself continue. “I’m just… having a hard time, is all. Every time you laugh, or smile at me…” I trail off with a grimace as she tilts her head, examining me.

Ah, fuck, I’ve said too much. I should have kept my mouth shut.

She stares at me for a long moment, her face giving nothing away. I shift my weight uncomfortably. She opens her mouth to say something, and I silently pray she won’t ask me to elaborate. When she closes her mouth again, I’m equal parts relieved and disappointed.

We gaze at each other in silence, the words I’m not saying filling the space between us. The air becomes so thick I’m almost afraid to take a breath.

“Well, the house is what matters most here,” she mutters at last. “This is all temporary anyway—we’re only here until we finish this project, then we both go back to our real lives. Right?”

I nod, not letting myself think about what my life will be like once she’s no longer in it. It’s an absurd thought to have after only knowing her for a week, but it’s there nonetheless.

“So let’s focus on the job,” she adds, “and try to stay out of each other’s way.”

Even though it’s exactly what I need, it still feels like a punch to the gut, because I don’t want to stay away from her. I want the opposite.

And I’ll never be able to have that.

I force myself to nod. “Good idea,” I say, not meaning a word of it. I turn for the door before I say anything else I can’t take back. “Goodnight, Violet.”

“Goodnight, Kyle.” She gives a quiet sigh as I leave the room, and I pretend not to hear.

12

Violet

The air mattress is ten times more comfortable than Sadie’s sofa—andI don’t have to listen to anyone having sex just a few feet away from me.

And yet, I hardly sleep.

Instead, I spend all night wondering where in the house Kyle is sleeping, and trying to make sense of our conversation. He’d looked so agonized when I asked him why things had been tense between us, and he couldn’t explain exactly why. I’d just assumed he’d been annoyed about my inexperience with this project, but he was pretty clear last night that it’s not about that.

Every time you laugh, or smile at me…

I lie awake in bed, the early dawn light seeping in through the half windows of the basement, replaying his words from the night before. I held my breath as he said those words. Words he didn’t finish.

What?I wanted to ask him.What happens when I do those things?

I’d been so busy trying to learn everything I could about this project, worried he thought I was useless, that I couldn’t see what was staring me in the face: he’s struggling because he’s attracted to me. That’s what he was saying, right? I know he didn’t use those words, exactly, but the electricity between us last night, the look in his eye as I moved closer and touched his cheek…

A thrill pulses through my body at the memory, and I roll over and punch the pillow in frustration. It doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing will come of it, because we’ve agreed to keep our distance.

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