Page 83 of Story of My Life
My brother looked up from his beverage collection. “Yeah?”
“Is this tile…cute?”
To Levi’s credit, he didn’t bat an eye at my newfound weird-ass vocabulary. “I guess.”
“Gonna ask Hazel if she wants to keep it,” I said as I speed-walked for the hall.
“I’ll come with you,” he volunteered.
We were both practically jogging by the time we hit the French doors. Neither of us bothered knocking, we just burst right in to find Gage with a hip cocked on the corner of the tableHazel was using as a desk, a stupid grin on his face. Hazel was leaning against the window, looking relaxed and amused.
“You guys need something?” Gage asked.
Levi and I took too long coming up with just the right insult, and Hazel took that as a cue to return to their conversation.
“Anyway, as I was saying. I’m just looking for some real-life inspiration,” she said to my brother, as she leaned down to pick up a moving box. Those leggings were doing a lot of complimentary things to every inch that they covered. And Gage appeared to be noticing.
“A method writer. I get it,” he said with a grin as she straightened. “Here. Let me take that.”
He was dumping charm like a toddler trying to pour a gallon jug of milk into a sippy cup.
“Now that you’ve met my brothers, I’m sure it doesn’t come as any surprise that I’m the charming one.”
“Get out,” I ordered.
“Which one of us?” Hazel asked. “Because I kind of live here.”
“Not you. Him,” I said, pointing at Gage with the business end of the pry bar I was still holding.
“We’ll continue this conversation later,” Gage offered.
“No. You won’t,” I insisted.
Gage raised an amused eyebrow in my direction. “There a problem?”
“Not if you leave in the next ten seconds.”
He glanced back at Hazel. “If he goes Gremlin-after-midnight on you, I’ll be within yelling distance.”
Gage rammed his shoulder into mine on his way past. But I let it slide.
Levi was still hovering by the door.
“Hey, man, help me unload the lumber and I’ll give you a hand getting that two-ton sink out of the kitchen,” Gage said, clapping Levi on the shoulder.
Levi looked at Hazel. Then at me. Then at the ceiling. He left without a word.
I closed the doors behind them and then turned to face her. “I don’t like being rushed,” I said.
“And I don’t like waiting in long lines,” she said conversationally as she bent over to take a pair of scissors to the packing tape on the box.
I stepped closer. “You asked me a question last night, and you expected an immediate answer. But I don’t like to be rushed.”
“Okay. Well,Idon’t like waiting centuries for a simple yes or no.”
She wasn’t even looking at me, and that annoyed me.
“You sprung this on me last night,” I complained.
