Page 47 of Wrench
¡°That must be it, Dad,¡± I said. ¡°Thanks.¡±
¡°All right, well, call me if you need anythin¡¯. I¡¯ll be home later.¡±
If it weren¡¯t for my restless crush, a Saturday night to myself would be fantastic.
Switching back and forth between jobs, despite this one being better, was draining me. I
kept getting habits from each job mixed up, like saving files when we should delete them,
confusing all of the staff when our desktop was a collage of file icons. Or even starting at
nine, instead of ten, felt more like a three-hour difference.
Not to mention, I couldn¡¯t handle another phone call from Travis. Nothing ever came
from them aside from stirred up bad feelings. He brought it all on himself, why couldn¡¯t
he just move on with his decisions?
At least Travis calling me mended my ego a bit. That was a plus.
Exhausted, I should have been thrilled to spend the evening having a bubble bath and
an early sleep. But instead, I was confused, disappointed, and most importantly, horny.
It had been years since I had been truly horny. Sure, when Travis and I would have
sex, once I got into it, I¡¯d be turned on. However, it was always a dash to the finish line.
Another thing checked off the to-do list. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure which of us triggered our
boring sex lives, but I knew my libido had been low for a long time. But Isaac had me
living like a simple breeze could make me orgasm. His green eyes were consuming my
thoughts and I longed to feel if his muscles were as solid as they looked.
I needed a distraction from him.
Books always occupied my thoughts. It was hard to think of anything else when I was
actively absorbing the words. I had no idea what the book I picked up was about. It had
probably been sitting on my shelf since I was ten, left behind by my mom. A burly man
with wispy blond hair embraced a woman with voluptuous brown hair, and she stared at
him, as if he was the answer to all of her life¡¯s struggles. Obviously a romance, I hoped it
would sweep me away from my own bleak love life.
Getting cozy in my bed, I began reading. Although the beginning was a little slow,
spending too much time focused on the woman¡¯s beauty routine in the first paragraph, on
a lonely Saturday night, I decided to carry on. And I was glad I did. Twelve pages in, I was
captivated by the characters, flipping page after page. The man was a tough, brooding
