Page 84 of Make the Play

She throws a look over her shoulder. “God, you’resonormal about this.”

I shrug, pretending like the tips of my ears aren’t burning. Zoe drops her bag and plants her hands on her hips, swiveling towards me. “Well, come on then.”

I stare at her. “Come on, what?”

“We’re building something. I’m not sleeping next to a crime scene of cardboard and regret.”

“Zoe—”

“Walton, pick up the Allen key or I’m doing it myself.”

Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting cross-legged on the guest room floor, surrounded by screws, cardboard, and two half-unwrapped panels that do not want to coexist peacefully.

“Are you sure that’s the top?” Zoe asks, squinting at the wonky half-built frame between us.

“I don’t know. It has a hole.”

Her brows lift. “Theyallhave holes, Walton.”

I glance down at the instructions, feeling personally betrayed by them. “Look, not everyone can be a flatpack genius, okay?”

“Are you always this confused about what goes on top?”

I look up sharply. “Wow.”

Zoe grins. “I’m just saying, maybe you should let someone with a little more experience take the lead.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” I huff, voice dropping an octave. “If this conversation keeps going, theonlything I’ll be leading is you—into bed.”

She scoffs. “You wish.”

I gesture to the dismantled pile of failure between us. “Pretty sure this wannabe dresser just watched you flirt with me.”

“Pretty sure this wannabe dresser is judging your tool-handling skills.”

I level her with a look. “I handle my tool just fine, and you know it.”

Zoe chokes on a laugh, shaking her head. “God, you men are all the same.”

“I’m defending my honor.”

“You don’t have any honor. You skippedthreesteps.”

“I was improvising.”

“Walton, you skipped the bit where we were supposed to install the actual support beam thingy.”

“Minor detail.”

She picks up the sad, wobbly panel and wiggles it. “This thing has the structural integrity of wet spaghetti.”

“Which is why we’re reinforcing it now.”

“Reinforcing it withwhat, hope?”

She mutters something under her breath, grabs the supposed top panel, and stands up to adjust it herself.

“Here, if we just tilt this—” she starts, then yanks the piece into place.

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