Page 28 of She Was Made for Me

Look, it’s not like I thought something would happen between us, but after our conversation last night—the most honest conversation we’ve had since the one at Joe’s—I keep replaying his words, wishing he’d finished the sentence. Wishing he’d actuallysaidthat he wants me. God, I want to hear those words from him.

He’d never say that, though. He’s a good guy and Dad is his best friend. He knows it’s not okay to come onto your friend’s daughter, even if you’re both consenting adults. That’s probably why he never admitted to asking me out the day we met; he was trying to do the right thing. Trying to be a good friend to Dad and not complicate the situation.

I haul myself from the bed, pushing thoughts of last night from my mind. I’m here to work and prove I can manage a project on my own. Besides, with his unruly beard and shaggy hair, it’s not like Kyle is my type. In fact, I tell myself, I’m not even that attracted to him.

I almost believe it.

With an exasperated shake of my head, I pad into the bathroom and splash some water on my face. This room seriously needs to be re-tiled, I note as I brush my teeth. The house wouldn’t have had bathrooms when it was built because only the very wealthy had indoor toilets at that time, and bathrooms were added later on the landing of the stairways or in closets upstairs. I don’t know when this one was added, but it’s definitely more practical than pretty. We’ll need to change that.

I dress quickly and find a protein bar in my bag for breakfast, then head out to Joe’s for my daily caffeine hit. Given I hardly slept at all, I can’t skip that. In fact, would it be too much to ask for a quadruple shot?

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I walk. It’s a text from Dad, saying he and Mom want to meet with me and Kyle for lunch, to catch up and talk about progress on the house. Nerves flutter in my stomach as I read his words. We’ve got a crew arriving today to begin demo, but other than that there’s not much to update him on.

Well, there’s the decision Kyle and I made to stick to a historical restoration and not do what Dad actually asked for. Thinking about that makes me uneasy. How’s he going to take it?

I swing into Joe’s, absently staring at my phone as I line up to place my coffee order. At the counter I slide my phone away and ask for my regular Americano, then hesitate.

“Is that all?” the barista asks.

“Uh…” My instinct is to get one for Kyle, whether by kindness or out of habit because I always got coffee for Deb, I’m not sure. But I sense that’s not the right thing to do anymore. “Yes, that’s it.”

She nods, grabbing a pen and a paper cup. “What’s the name?”

“Violet.”

The barista smiles as she scribbles my name on my order. “My name is a flower too,” she says, motioning to her nametag. For the first time, I notice the word ‘Daisy’ pinned to her shirt. I’ve seen her working here but haven’t ordered from her before. “I’m named after my favorite flower,” she tells me, and I pause, wondering how that works—how her parents could have known her favorite flower before she was born. But before I can ask, she adds, “What about you?”

“My dad got my mom violets on their first date,” I say with a laugh. “Apparently it stuck.”

“What a sweet story.” A grin brightens her pretty, freckled face. “Well, your coffee won’t be long.”

“Thanks.” I turn and step away from the counter to wait, smiling to myself.

My smile quickly drops away when I notice a certain tall, broad-shouldered contractor with a messy beard and cap standing on the other side of the coffee shop, his eyes on me.

I stumble in surprise, quickly catching myself and glancing away as if I didn’t see him.

Well. This is awkward.

Kyle appears at my side with a sigh. “You don’t have to act like we’re strangers,” he mutters.

“Sorry. I wasn’t sure if I should say hello.”

He doesn’t respond, but I can feel his gaze on me. Eventually I can’t take it, and glance at his face. His green eyes look tired, and I wonder if he spent the night like I did, tossing and turning, thinking about our conversation.

When he finally tears his gaze away, I notice the purple bruise on the side of his cheek. I want to reach out and touch him, to apologize again, but I stop myself. Instead, I say, “Mom and Dad want to meet us for lunch to discuss progress on the house.”

“I know.” He won’t look at me, and seems relieved when his coffee order is called. “We’re going to be pretty busy with demo today,” he says on his way past me to the door. “So you should probably stay out of the way.” Then he steps outside, saying nothing more.

* * *

Kyleand I walk two blocks in uneasy silence to meet my parents at a cafe on Pineapple Street for lunch. True to his word, he’s been busy with the demo crew, so I made myself scarce and spent the morning in Joe’s with my laptop, occasionally chatting to Daisy. I hadn’t planned to walk to lunch with Kyle, but I came out of Joe’s right as he passed and there was nothing to do except fall into step beside him. Besides, we’re going to have to be around each other at lunch anyway, and we’ll need to do a better job of acting like things are okay in front of Dad for him not to wonder what the hell is going on.

“Wait.” I grab Kyle’s arm, stopping him outside the cafe, and he turns to me with a frown. “I want to tell Dad.”

His eyes widen and I realize I need to clarify.

“I mean, I want to tell him what we’re doing with the house. That we’re doing something different to what he asked.”

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