Chapter 32 Jesse
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Jesse
Drywall dust is a special kind of hell. Gets in your hair, your nose, your clothes.
Hell, I’ll probably still be sneezing it out by Christmas. But there’s something satisfying about it too, because every layer we put up means this place is one step closer to being finished.
Leo’s over by the far wall with a roller, steady and precise as if he’s painting the Sistine Chapel instead of a rental property in Coyote Glen. Karl’s swearing at a cabinet that refuses to line up, and I’m standing here with a drill in my hand, smirking.
“You’re leaning it wrong,” I tell him, half grinning.
Karl glares at me. “You want to do it?”
“Not particularly.” I lean on the drill, shrugging. “You’ve got it handled.”
Leo snorts without looking up, which, from him, counts as a full-blown laugh. He’s focused, methodical, but there’s a tension in the set of his jaw. I know where his head is. Same place mine keeps going. Olivia.
Her house is finally coming together after days of hammering, painting, patching, and swearing. Once it became clear the contractors were charging too much and dragging their feet, we took over. Now it’s actually starting to look homely again.
See? We didn’t need those overpriced professionals after all.
I set the drill down, brushing dust off my jeans.
“Gonna grab the other box of screws from the truck,” I call over my shoulder.
Outside, the cold air smacks me in the face, sharp and clean after the musty drywall inside. My boots crunch on the gravel as I head toward the truck bed, flipping up the tarp. That’s when I hear it… heels clicking against the driveway.
“Jesse.”
Vanessa.
Fucking hell.
She’s striding up confidently, coat cinched tight, makeup flawless as if she walked out of a boutique catalog and dropped herself straight into a construction zone.
“Vanessa,” I say, dragging the word out. “What are you doing here?”
She smiles. “I was in the area. Thought I’d check in. See how you were doing.”
I reach into the truck bed, pulling the box of screws closer. “I’m doing fine.”
She steps closer, boots crunching on gravel.
“You look good. Better than the last time I saw you.” Her eyes skim over me, cataloging every detail. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
I roll my eyes. Yeah, she hasn’t because I’ve been pointedly ignoring her. “Busy.”
“Yeah.” She nods. “Hard work suits you.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, setting the box down on the tailgate.
Her fingers trail along the edge of the truck, and then she leans in. Just close enough that I catch her perfume over the smell of cold metal and sawdust.
“I’ve missed you,” she says softly. “I really do want to hang out again.”
I huff out a laugh. “You don’t miss me. You miss attention.”
“No, I miss you. Let’s have dinner. Just as friends as you want.”
I shake my head, grabbing the box of screws. “Dinner’s not happening, Vanessa.”
Her smile flickers. She clearly didn’t expect me to shut it down so fast. “Why not? You don’t even want to think about it? One meal. Come on, I’m not asking too much… unless there’s someone else.”
I don’t answer. Not out loud. But I guess my silence does the talking for me, because her eyes narrow, sharp as glass.
“Oh,” she says, dripping with fake sweetness. “Interesting. Does she know? About you and me?”
My jaw tightens. “There isn’t a you and me, Vanessa. Never was. You’re trying to spin a story.”
She leans in closer, her breath warm in the cold air. “Maybe not to you. But you think she’ll see it that way?”
I stare her down, every muscle in me wanting to walk away, but knowing that if I don’t make it clear, she’ll keep pushing.
“There is no ‘she’.”
The words are a lie on my tongue, bitter and heavy. Because we both know that’s not true. There is a she. There’s Olivia. Her name sits on the back of my teeth. A secret I’m dying to spit out.
But I’m not about to let her see that.
Vanessa tilts her head, lips curving in that knowing smile I used to think was sexy. Now it just makes me want to walk straight through the nearest wall.
“No?” she murmurs, leaning against the truck. “You sure about that? You’ve got a look in your eye, Jesse. Same look you had the first night you kissed me.”
I laugh, sharp and humorless. “That wasn’t a look. That was whiskey.”
She steps closer. Too close. Her perfume hits me again, cloying, too sweet, nothing compared to the clean, warm scent that lingers on Olivia’s sweaters.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Vanessa whispers, as if it’s a compliment. “Who is she? Tell me. Is it that woman you work with? No, too obvious. One of those girls from the feed store? Or…” Her voice drops, sly and cutting. “Is it someone new?”
The box of screws nearly slips from my grip. My jaw locks so tight I swear I feel a crack in my molar.
“Walk away, Vanessa,” I say quietly. Deadly quiet.
She laughs, soft and cruel. “So, it is her.”
Before I can stop her, she presses a manicured hand to my chest and leans in, her lips so close to mine I feel the ghost of a breath.
“You really think she’ll want you if she finds out about us?”
Something in me snaps. I catch her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make her freeze, and peel her hand off me as if it’s toxic.
“We didn’t do anything,” I grit out. “There’s nothing to tell. We had a fling. That’s it. You don’t get to rewrite the story because your ego’s bruised.”
Her eyes flash, bright with anger. Then her smile slides back into place, sharper now. Dangerous.
“Well,” she says lightly, brushing invisible dust off her sleeve, “would be a shame if someone told her differently.”
That lands as a sucker punch. I stare at her, trying to decide if she’s bluffing or just bitter enough to burn the whole damn thing down.
“You’re not serious,” I say finally.
She tilts her head, smile sweet as arsenic. “Try me.”
For a second, the only sound is the wind and Karl cursing inside. My grip on the box tightens until the cardboard groans.
Then I laugh. A slow, low laugh that makes her blink.
“You really think you can ruin something that never even involved you?” I ask. “We weren’t together, Vanessa. We weren’t anything. You were a good time on a bad night, and you hate that I’m not pretending otherwise.”
Her cheeks flush, anger carving sharp lines into her face. “Careful, Jesse. That girl you’re mooning over. She won’t look twice at you when she finds out what you’re really like.”
I step in, closing the space she left open, and lower my voice until it’s nothing but steel.
“She’ll find out from me, if anyone,” I say. “So, if you think you’re gonna play games, don’t. You won’t win.”
Her smile falters for half a heartbeat, but she recovers fast. “We’ll see.”
I shoulder past her and head for the house, because if I stand here another second, I’ll say something I can’t take back.
Inside, the cold air clings to me as smoke, but it doesn’t put out the fire burning in my chest. Leo glances up from the wall. Karl’s still swearing at the cabinet.
“Vanessa,” Leo says flatly. He saw the whole damn thing through the window.
“Handled,” I mutter, setting the screws down harder than I mean to.
Karl looks up, eyebrows raised. “You look like you want to kill something.”
“Just tired,” I lie, but my pulse is a war drum in my ears. “Tired of it all.”
Because all I can think about is Olivia.
Her laugh. Her stubborn mouth. The way her eyes looked at me that night.
And the fact that if Vanessa really wants to torch something, Olivia will be the one standing in the flames.