Chapter 10
LANEY
The road trip was eventful, but the guys are coming home with two losses. We’ve got the next two games of the series at home, so I’m hoping they can pull off two wins to keep their playoff run going.
Once we land at the airport, I’m ready to be out of the plane and doing something that doesn’t have me inside small spaces. Maybe I could go for a hike or a trail run tomorrow.
Then again, I probably should take some time to head out to the farm.
I take public transportation back to Jessa’s house, knowing I’ll have to deal with my apartment as well. I groan, not wanting to go back there.
The bus lets me off a few blocks away from the house, and I change my shoes before making the journey. No need to get blisters on the walk back.
As I turn onto the street, I think back to the run I did with Burton. We didn’t text much the rest of the trip, which was probably a good thing. I had a lot going on, and I didn’t want to be distracted when I needed to secure my spot in this organization.
I glance down the road, smiling as I see the guys’ house. Then I turn my attention to Jessa’s house and see a car in the driveway. It looks an awful lot like my car.
What is it doing here?
I pick up my pace. Did they have it towed here? I’ve heard nothing from Jessa since I’ve been gone, but that could be because of how much she’s probably working as well.
Glancing in the car’s window, there’s the light pink scrunchie around the stick shift and small beads around the rearview mirror. Both are mine.
I turn and hurry into the house, but the door is hard to open. Is someone trying to keep me out?
It’s only when I’ve got it open enough to stick my head in that I see a lot of boxes piled up. Why would they be right there, though?
Maybe Jessa had some stuff in a storage shed and just had it delivered. I really need to talk to my new roommate so I’m not so surprised by things like this.
“Jessa?” I call out. “Jessa?”
I push hard enough that the boxes give way, causing me to stumble on my way into the house.
There’s an open box, and I see a lot of familiar items.
Is this my stuff?
Jessa isn’t here, so I pull out my phone to call her.
“Hey, new roomie,” Jessa says, her tone cheery.
“Hey. I just got home from the road trip. My car is out front, and there are boxes with all my stuff in them.” I don’t even know what question to ask.
“Yeah, Burton got the car running, and we figured we’d move stuff over for you. Just so you wouldn’t get accidentally embalmed or something.”
I laugh at her tone and say, “Sadly, that was a possibility. You guys didn’t have to do this. How did you know what was mine?”
“Well, I went and talked to Chandie, and she kind of threw anything that was yours in a pile out in the kitchen. So, if I’ve missed something, you can always go ask her for it.”
I shake my head. “At this point, I’ll just rebuy what I’m missing. Thank you so much. What do I owe you? Did you get a moving truck or anything?”
“No, we just took a few carloads. All the guys helped.”
My throat tightens, and I try to force back the emotion there. “Thank you.” It comes out all squeaky and high.
This feels a little like what it would’ve been like to have siblings. I’ve never been able to lean too hard on my grandparents for stuff like this because they’re older and more fragile.
“Of course. The guys had some time, and we figured that would be the best. Burton led the charge.”
That gets my heart pumping even more, which shouldn’t because he doesn’t affect me like that. Okay, that’s a lie, but this is the baby stage of talking. Like feeling things out and seeing if texting back and forth is worth it.
“I’ll have to say thank you. If you know their favorite treats, I can put together a little gift.”
“For sure. I’ll text that to you. I’m on my way to a basketball game, so I won’t be back until late. Settle in. I’m glad you made it back.”
“Me too. Hopefully, you’ll be on the next trip.”
“I hope so.”
She hangs up, and I stare at the boxes, still surprised at the generosity of the people in my life.
True to her word, I get a text soon after with a list of each of the guys and their favorites.
What about you?
Dr. Pepper and a Twix
With the list on my phone, I take my car keys from the countertop and decide to put off unpacking for a bit. I need to thank the people who took care of me without my even asking.
Driving my car to the store is so much better than taking the bus, although I’m grateful I was able to get places when I needed to.
I gather the favorites for each of the guys in the house and get a larger size of Dr. Pepper and Twix for Jessa.
But Burton fixed my car. A soda and a candy bar don’t seem like the best way to say thank you.
The problem is, I don’t know him that well…yet. But I have his phone number. Maybe I could text him? How would I word it though?
Hey, I can’t really afford to pay you for fixing my car, but I’d like to get you an overstuffed bear? Or how about monthly installments?
I shake my head and take a step away from the enormous bear in front of me. What would mean more?
Gift cards seem impersonal, and the guy is an athlete and probably doesn’t need to have a crate of junk food given as a thank you.
I open my phone and search for “meaningful thank-you gifts.”
After seeing a soap and lotion set along with women’s clothing, I modify my search.
There’s a picture of a little coupon book written in a child’s handwriting. Would that be dumb?
What could I put in that? “Coupon for a running buddy?”
Other than that, I know little that would appeal to him. Maybe he just wants to stay away from me.
I buy the goods and head home, racking my brain for more ideas. I need to come up with something that would adequately say thank you.
It takes about thirty minutes to wrap all the gifts with ribbon, and I still don’t have any ideas better than the coupon book. So I go on my computer and look up the templates for it.
Luckily, Jessa is prepared and has a printer.
I print out the little coupons and take time writing on them. If he doesn’t like this idea, he doesn’t have to use them, at least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. It’s the thought that counts.
I add the running buddy idea to one of them and come up with a few others. When I get to the last one, my hand hovers over the paper for way too long before I finally write, “Join me on a trip to the farm.”
Should I crumple that up? What if he’s allergic to animals? Or mud? Is that even a possibility?
After a five-minute debate, I leave it in. Again, he doesn’t have to use any of them if he doesn’t want to.
That will be enough. A sincere thank you for helping me have wheels and not have to be a complete mooch to get rides to different places.
No, I’ll pay him in real money as well. I find two twenty-dollar bills in my room and tuck them into the coupon book. Monthly installments it is.
Jessa won’t be here to give her hers right now, but one check through the window shows me the guys are home, or at least some of them, because the house is ablaze with light.
I empty one box with my toiletries that the group brought from the old apartment to put the various gifts in and walk over.
Knocking on the door, I blow out a breath. I don’t know why I’m terrified, but it feels like I’m heading to ask one of them to a school dance. And I was never good at that.
The door opens, and one of them stands in the doorway. I can’t remember whether it’s Stack or Finny, they look so similar.
“Hey! Do you need help moving some more things?” he says.
I shake my head. “No, I wanted to thank you all for helping get my stuff over here. Are you Stack or Finny?” I ask, grimacing.
He laughs. “Stack.”
“How did you get that name?” I ask.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s not a great story. I used to stack everything my mom gave me. Blocks, shoes, pasta, everything. We started the nickname, and it stuck.”
I’m smiling at the mental picture clouding my brain of this man as a child with towers of things stacked around the house. “Do you know Burton’s first name?”
He holds both hands out and says, “I value my life too much to divulge that.”
“It can’t be that bad, can it?” I ask, pulling out his drink and treat.
“He thinks it is. Thank you very much. Word to the wise, if you want anyone to know something about you, tell Jessa.”
“I believe it,” I say.
Stack waves for me to come in, and I take exactly two steps inside, enough to close the door but not enough to be standing in the middle of the home. Not that I don’t trust them, I just feel like I’ve got “intruder” stamped on my forehead.
“Let me go get the guys,” Stack says, walking down the hallway.
I glance around, not surprised by the lack of decoration on the walls. There’s a basic setup in the front room with a large couch, coffee table, and television.
To the left is a large dining room table and the kitchen. From the outside of the house, I know it stretches back a ways, so that must be where all their rooms are.
Finny and Clark come out, thanking me for the gifts. Clark talks to me for a moment before heading back to get in the shower.
Now my body is attuned to every other sound in the place, wondering if I should head out and leave the gift for Burton on the table. But then again, I feel like I need to explain the coupon book.
At least three minutes go by when I decide to leave everything but the coupon book on the table. His name is on the soda and candy bar, so hopefully he sees it when he comes out.
The front door opens just as I reach for the handle, causing me to jump back and let out a squeak.
Burton walks in, looking like he hasn’t slept in days.
“Hey,” he says, giving me a smile. “You’re back. How was the trip?”
“Hey,” I say, tucking my hands into the pockets of my pants so I can hide the coupon book. Why would I think a grown man would like something like that? “It was good. I’m glad to be home, though.”
“Sorry, were you leaving?” he asks, stepping inside and holding the door for me.
“Kind of. I thought you were down the hallway, and I brought you something to say thank you for all the help with the car and the apartment and everything.” Wow, flustered much?
Burton laughs a bit and turns to see the drink on the table. “Perfect. I was just thinking about a strawberry lemonade. This is the best ending to tonight.”
I laugh and say, “No Coke or Dr. Pepper?”
He shakes his head. “Naw, my parents wouldn’t let us have any caffeine growing up, and then when I moved out, I went crazy, drinking it every day. I might’ve thrown up, and now I can’t even look at the stuff.”
And there is another tidbit about Burton.
“Well, again, thank you.” I take a step toward the door and pause, trying to decide if I should give him the coupon booklet, like it’s Father’s Day and I’m four years old.
“What’s wrong?” Burton asks. When I turn toward him, he’s twisting the cap on the lemonade bottle.
I study his face, trying to predict his reaction to the booklet.
“Well, I wanted to get you something else because you got my car started. I can’t really pay you for the repairs right now, which I will absolutely do in the future, but I made something for you.
” Pulling out the booklet, I hand it to him.
“I know it’s kind of dumb, but I wasn’t sure what else would be a good enough thank you in the meantime. ”
Burton’s expression gives nothing away at first until he turns to the first coupon.
He looks up at me and turns the booklet around, showing the running buddy one. “This one right here is worth fixing your car. I need all the motivation I can get. Every day you were gone I wished you were home so you could train me.”
I smile, wishing my insides would just act normal about his compliment. Instead, my heart is ready to beat through my chest.
Burton flips through several more and nods, grinning. “These are all great.”
He barely glances at the cash before he lands on the last one. “Go to the farm.” He looks up at me and says, “Is this your family farm?”
I nod, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m not sure why I put that in there actually. I couldn’t think of anything else to put on the last one.”
“Thank you, Laney,” he says, lifting the booklet in a gesture toward me. Then in a second, he takes a step forward and pulls me in for a hug.
He smells of garlic and cheese, but I don’t mind. He’s several inches taller than I am since I’m not wearing my heels, and I can’t complain about his arms around me. They make me feel safe. Not like my life is more dangerous than a deer’s head, but it’s like a security I haven’t felt in a while.
He pulls back, and I focus way too much on his lips. His very kissable lips.
“Sorry,” he says, taking a step back even more, “I smell like Italian food, and I have way too much gunk on my uniform. Do I have to have a physical copy of the coupons to redeem them? Or can I do it through a text?”
The corner of his lips hitches up just the slightest bit, and I’m focused on it for way too long.
I laugh and say, “Either way works. I’ll let you get on with your night. Thanks again, Burton.”
I open the door and dash out, trying not to sprint away like a crazy person. Once I’m inside the house, I unpack boxes so I don’t have time to think about what just happened.
I’d given three men their drinks and candy bars without the slightest rise in heart rate. With Burton, it was practically galloping away like it was racing in the Kentucky Derby.
This is bad. I think I’m falling for my athlete neighbor.