Page 72 of Not That Ridiculous

He peeled himself off me, inch by inch. As soon as we were no longer in contact, I scooted out of range. I straightened my t-shirt and cleared my throat.

“We good?” Kevin asked. “You’re not angry about the door anymore?”

“I’m not angry, no. I’m grateful. And quite honestly, I’m a bit overwhelmed. It’s a big gift, Kevin.”

He sighed again. “I told you, I got a great discount.”

“How great?”

He looked shifty. “Like, forty percent off? It’s not that big a gift. Anyway, you need it, Charlie.”

“I know. It’s been at the top of my very long DIY to-do list since I—what?”

His eyes had lit up. “Can I see it?”

“What, my list?”

“Yeah.” He reached for me again, his hands curling naturally around my waist and squeezing gently, absently, as if he’d done it a hundred times already. “Can I have a look?”

“It’s…no, it’s a mental list.”

He drew me against him. “Tell me,” he said, staring at me intensely.

“Uh. All right. There’s the front door, which you already know about. Back door. You’ve done my cabinets. Half the guttering over my sitting room fell off into the flowerbed at the back and I managed to work a little magic with some zip ties—” I broke off to laugh and cup his face at the outraged disapproval. “The patio needs to be relaid and the hedge needed trimming before I even moved in. You’ve seen the kitchen, and the cabinets will tide me over but the oven and the hob have been here since the eighties and are older than I am. I need the wiring checked, I desperately need new carpet in my bedroom—everywhere, really—and I’ve got some infuriating creaky boards going on in the guest room. I need to paint everything and…Kevin, is this turning you on?”

Kevin was breathing heavily. His cheeks were pink and his eyes were heavy-lidded. He nodded. He bumped his hips into mine. “Write it down for me?”

“My list?”

“Yeah.”

I eyed him. “Why do I feel like if I do that, you’re going to wank over it?”

“‘Cause I am. When I’m done wanking over it, though, I’m going to make aplan. Oh my god. I want to do it all so much.”

“You’re not fixing my house.”

He bit his lip and nodded again, eyes wide. “I am,” he said. “I’m gonna fix it so good, Charlie. I’m gonna make it into apalacefor you. You should see what I did to my flat.”

“That’s…I…I don’t want a palace?”

“Tough. You’re getting one. It’s going to be so much fun.”

“Kevin,” I said firmly. “You are not fixing my house.”

“Okay,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not.”

“Okay. Maybe when I visit I bring my toolbox, though. And while you’re making me lattes, I do a little something for you.”

He’d been doing that already.

I opened my mouth to tell him no, absolutely not, when Ali banged on the door again.

“Kevin! Mate!”

“Coming!” He hunched his shoulders and whispered, “Sorry,” when he saw my wince. He ducked in for a quick kiss, shuffled me out of the way, and headed out the door.

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