Page 11 of Mechanic Next Door
“Peach, don’t make me say it. I don’t want to embarrass you, but I’ll say it if I haveto.”
I feel my blood go cold, and even in the warm spring water my veins chill and send goosebumps plumping over my arms andshoulders.
“Who told you?” I ask in a small, quiet voice. I know he’s talking about the pole-dancing class. What else could he be referring to? He isn’t talking about the old jazzercise videos I like to pop into the old VHS player in my grandparent’s oldroom.
Different people have different ways of keeping their loved-ones’ memories alive. I have my jazzercise. Other people have recipes. I have recipes too, but I can’t resist those hip-thrusts and booty wiggles that come along with exercises trends of thepast.
“I saw the paper in your bag, Peach,” he says. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant as an invasion of yourprivacy.”
“It’s okay,” I manage to squeak out. I know he’d never snoop on purpose. Maybe - just maybe - I wanted him to see that paper announcing the exact location of today’s follies. Maybe - just maybe - I left my bag in his truck onpurpose.
“I get it, you’re a sexy young woman, you want to feel empowered, you want to explore yourself. Nothing wrong withthat.”
I bite my lower lip. He isn’t flirting. He’s teasing me. He’s giving me bait. And I bite for it each and everytime.
“Oh, you thought that was for myself?” I say, swimming toward him. “That was paid training for my newjob.”
“You on the pole,” he says. “That’s something I’d have to see tobelieve.”
His words hit me in the gut. He doesn’t understand how big of an impact he has on me. He couldn’t. Indicating that the idea of me being sexual in front of a room full of men is both unlikelyandsomething that he himself could be witness to? No, he just can’t understand how much these comments he makes have onme.
He couldn’t know. Because if he knew, he wouldn’t be so playful. He wouldn’t play around with my emotions like this. He justwouldn’t.
I give him a little smile and swim over to the dock and he does the same. We both pull up on the edge of the dock and he pushes up first, easily, then helps me up next tohim.
“Want a beer?” I ask a little more cooly than I’d intended. He nods his answer and I go into the cooler to grab two of the coldbottles.
When I hand one to him, he gives me a small, sincere smile. But there’s something else in his eyes. Something that tells me something’s changed inhim.
Maybe he’s met a woman. The idea makes my heart deflate like a sad balloon animal after the party’sover.
Maybe he’s considering plans that extend beyond him just living next doorforever.
Whatever it is, I resolve to let this night last as long as itcan.
Because all I want is for him to live next doorforever.
