Page 21 of Something Like Winter
Ugh, did he have to write a script for her? “Will you give me a reward?” Tim prompted.
“Oh!” Krista stared. “What do you mean?”
Seriously? “I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do for me.”
“Oh. Oooh!”
There we go. Now she was finally getting it. Krista took one of the markers from the coffee table to write on his cast. His irritation with her had made his hard-on go down, but he would get there again. He kept jiggling his foot, making Krista laugh more, when he heard a noise in the hallway. Tim glanced over and saw Ben, eyes wide before he backed away from the door. Good thing, because Krista had heard him too.
Tim struggled to his feet. “Be right back.”
“Is someone here?” Krista asked, looking worried.
“It’s just my neighbor. He promised to bring something by. Wait here.”
Tim grabbed his crutches and hurried to the hallway. Not only was Ben there, but he had a dog with him. Tim brushed by them, motioning with his head that Ben should follow. He didn’t stop until he reached the front door, which should be hint enough.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed. “I thought you were grounded?”
“I snuck out,” Ben said.
“Jesus, man! You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry. I wanted to surprise you.”
“That you did.” The dog made a grumbling noise to get his attention. Tim had wanted a dog for ages, but to his parents, that was like asking them to make another kid. “Who’s this?” he asked, reaching down to pet him.
“Wilford, my faithful companion. I thought taking him out for a walk would be a good excuse to sneak over here.”
But Tim barely heard him. Instead he was thinking of his birthday, when he had nearly driven over some guy and his dog. It couldn’t be… could it? “You know, he looks oddly familiar.”
“He looks like Wilford Brimley,” Ben explained. “The old guy in the oatmeal commercials?”
“Oh yeah!” Tim laughed. “He totally does.”
“That’s why we named him that. He just needs a pair of glasses, and the look is complete.”
They laughed together, and it felt easy. Too easy. Krista could walk into the entryway at any moment.
“Look, you can’t stay,” Tim whispered. “I’m trying to get laid. I’m playing up the injury thing like crazy, and she’s eating it up.”
“Yeah, sorry.” Ben looked embarrassed, like he’d done something stupid. “I, uh, yeah. Good luck, man.”
God this sucked, but it was going to happen on Monday anyway. Tim gave him a friendly punch to the arm, the sort that was really just pressing your fist against someone’s deltoid. “You too. I hope you sneak back in without getting caught.”
“Shouldn’t be hard. My parents are out running errands.”
“Oh.”
Ben shuffled awkwardly. “Well, see ya.”
“Yeah. Wait!”
Ben turned around, Tim regretting his carelessness because Ben looked so damn hopeful. “I need my car keys back.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course.”
Ben fumbled the keychain out of his pocket, not making eye contact with Tim. Then he left the house, cutting across the yard and practically dragging Wilford along in his haste.
