Page 59 of Trick or Treat Nurse at My Feet
"I hate you," Tyler tells Ian, who just laughs.
"No, you don't. Now, get back to work before Drew has a fit. I'll get Ethan set up." Ian turns to me. "You ready to get wet for a good cause?"
"Um, sure," I'm trying not to fixate on how that phrase could be interpreted.
Ian winks, clearly catching my train of thought. "I meant the dogs and cats, but I like where your head's at."
Tyler shoves him playfully. "Behave."
"Never," Ian says with a grin. "Now go. Drew's giving you the look."
Tyler glances over his shoulder at a tall guy staring in our direction with his arms crossed. "Fine. But no embarrassing stories," he warns Ian before turning to me. "I'll find you later?"
"I'll be here," I promise.
As Tyler jogs back to his station, I catch myself admiring the way his wet shorts cling to his thighs.
"He's got a nice ass, right?" Ian says conversationally.
Choking a little. "I, uh?—"
"Relax," Ian laughs. "We're all friends here. And trust me, he's been equally obvious about checking you out."
Heat rises to my face. "Good to know."
Ian leads me to a supply table, where I'm given my own sponge and bucket. "You can work with Marcus at station three," he says, pointing to where a guy with dark skin andan impressive build is carefully washing an elderly woman's Buick. "He's the responsible one."
"Unlike you?" I can't help but ask.
Ian clutches his chest dramatically. "I'm wounded. But yes, exactly unlike me. I'm the fun one."
His easy demeanour helps settle my nerves. Maybe this won't be so awkward after all.
Two hours in, I'm soaked to the skin, my dark t-shirt clinging uncomfortably, but I'm having more fun than I expected. The guys have all been super friendly, making me feel like part of the group.
Marcus works carefully on the cars, teaching me how to wash them without leaving marks. The people who own the cars, mostly students and teachers, are nice. They put money in a big jar covered with pictures of animals from the shelter.
I see Tyler here and there all morning. While I don't think the guys are keeping us apart on purpose, they do seem to laugh at Tyler an awful lot.
When I look up, sometimes, he's looking back at me, offering a smile or a wave. Other times, he's focused on his work, his muscles flexing as he scrubs at stubborn dirt on a wheel well or stretches to reach the roof of an SUV. Several times, I notice people, mostly women, lingering after their cars are done, clearly enjoying the show the brothers are putting on.
"You're getting the hang of it," Marcus tells me as we finish up a filthy pickup truck. "You're a natural."
"Thanks," I say, wringing out my sponge. "It's actually kind of satisfying, seeing the before and after."
"That's what I like about it too," he agrees. "Plus, it's for a good cause. Last year, we helped fund the shelter's spay and neuter program for a full quarter."
Before I can say anything back, a shiny red convertible pulls up to our station with its top down and music blaring. The driver is that stunning girl from Halloween night. She stares directly at Tyler across the lot with her long, dark hair and oversized sunglasses.
"Shit," Marcus mutters under his breath. "It's Cher."
"Oh yeah, Cher," which is obvious and adds nothing useful to the conversation.
"Tyler's ex," he explains quickly, not knowing I have already had the misfortune of meeting her. "Don't worry, I got this."
Marcus steps forward with a professional smile. "Welcome to Delta Psi Omega's charity car wash. We'll have you taken care of in no time."
She barely glances at him. "Actually, I was hoping Tyler could wash my car. We have some catching up to do."
