Page 40 of Wait With Me
She laughs and splays her hands flat on my chest to push me back. “Actually, since we’re sticking with the whole friends thing, I was wondering if you could help me with a little project first.”
I waggle my brows at her. “Like a naked kind of project?”
She frowns and bites her lip sheepishly. “You could be naked if you want, but I’m not sure how safe it would be.”
My smile falls.
“Do you think you could help me move my roommate’s shit downstairs? I’m going to get one of those pods delivered this week for his stuff. I want to make that upstairs room into a writing den.”
My brows knit together. “You aren’t going to keep writing at Tire Depot?” The disappointment I feel over that thought isn’t lost on me.
“I don’t know yet.” She shrugs. “I might. But I want to try this out first.”
“Okay,” I reply with a frown. “But you know you could still write there. No one knows about you.”
She laughs and frowns at me curiously. “We’ll see.” She shrugs noncommittally again, and it’s annoying. Why doesn’t she want to write there anymore?
Shaking off my agitation, I step back and spread my arms out wide to stretch. “So what did your roommate do to piss you off that you’re moving his shit out?”
She rolls her eyes. “What didn’t he do?”
I laugh at her cute little flash of attitude and reply, “Well, I’ll definitely help you. This is the stuff guys like me were born to do.” I give her a wink and flex my arms cockily. “Should we shower before or after hard labor?”
She smiles. “Why not both?”
“I’ve entered into a casual, friends-with-benefits situation with a mechanic from Tire Depot who thinks my name is Mercedes,” I groan to my author friend, Hannah, on the phone while sprawled out dramatically on the now empty floor of the upstairs bedroom. “Tell me what to do.”
“Okay, what book is this for?”
“It’s not for a book.”
“Wait, what?” she asks.
“It’s not for a book. It’s for me.”
“This is actually happening to you?”
“Yes.”
“Like in real life?”
“Yes, Hannah! And I like him way more than just a friend so can you keep up, please? I’m in crisis mode, and I’m not sure what to do!”
“Besides bone him every chance you get?”
“Yeah. I mean…I’m kind of avoiding him this week to sort of play it cool, so he doesn’t catch on that I like him.”
“Which you do.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want him to know that!”
“Listen to me,” she states, and I swear I hear her laptop close. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go camping.”
“Camping?” I repeat.
“Camping.”
“Why?”
