Chapter 17
Ainsley
Present
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Pfft.” I wave my hand. “I’ve totally got this under control. Just shine some light in here for me.”
I don’t tell Ivori my plumbing experience only goes as far as the two-minute YouTube video I watched this morning.
She peers under the kitchen sink while I crouch down inside the cabinet.
“See this?” I point to the U-shaped PVC tube. “All I have to do is twist this ring, and the water will stop leaking.”
I secure my wrench around the bolt, and give it a few cranks. Immediately, the droplets stop falling. “There! I did it.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep. Let’s just give it one more spin for good luck.” I yank the wrench, putting all my strength into it, ensuring the bolt is as tight as it will go. “Go ahead. Turn the water on.”
Ivori leans forward to twist the lever on the faucet, and I grin from ear to ear when the pipe remains dry. But just as I begin to back out from under the sink, a spray of cold water shoots out from the pipe like a thumb over a champagne bottle.
A shocked scream rips from my throat, and I press both of my hands to the source of the gushing water. “Turn it off!”
I guess I did need to shut the water main outside like the guy in the YouTube video suggested.
I scramble to my feet, and bolt outside. Spotting the red knob attached to the pipe on the side of the house, I frantically twist it to the right.
Snap.
The knob breaks off in my hand, and water rushes out, dousing me completely. I scream again as my hands fumble to block the chilly spray. I attempt to twist the knob back onto the pipe, but it’s hopeless. The thing is broken.
I yank on the roots of my hair, and squeeze my eyes shut.
This is probably going to cost a lot of money to fix.
“Ainsley!”
I spin around at the sound of Landon’s deep voice.
He jogs across the lawn, eyes wide. “Why is all this water—” The second his sneakers hit the mud puddle forming on the grass, his legs slide out from under him. He flies up, and then crashes down onto his back with a thud.
I gasp, and cover my mouth with my hand.
Landon doesn’t try to get up. He remains on his back with his arms and legs sprawled out wide, mud splattered all over his basketball shorts and grey T-shirt. He blinks up at the sky.
Then his jaw ticks, and that slight movement is my undoing.
A loud, obnoxious laugh bursts from my throat.
Landon glares up at me, and I throw my head back and laugh harder. He plants his palm on the squishy ground, but it slips out from under him and he collapses back down. I hunch over, and brace one hand on my knee while the other clutches my stomach.
“I don’t see what’s so funny.”
I’m panting. “Your legs ... they went up ... like a cartoon.”
Landon reaches up, and yanks my wrist. I fall forward, belly-flopping into the mud beside him.
I squeal. “You jerk. Now I have mud in my hair.”
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”
“It was worth it.”
As my laughter dies down, a pause stretches between us.
Sunlight illuminates the flecks of gold around Landon’s irises, giving them an ethereal glow, and the breeze ruffles his dark hair.
I drink him in, noting the slight differences in his face.
The sharp cheekbones, the hard jaw, the mature edge he now possesses.
Everything about him is the same, yet it’s all so new.
He’s familiar and foreign at the same time.
What else has changed?
Does he still eat Lucky Charms at midnight when he can’t sleep?
Does he still play the drums on his steering wheel while he’s driving?
Does he still cry watching old romcoms?
His eyes hold mine as if he’s wondering the same things about me.
I clear my throat. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard.”
He shakes his head with a smirk. “I see you still laugh when someone falls.”
“It’s never not funny.” My smile drops. “Except when you break all the pipes in your house and cost yourself a fortune.”
Landon carefully pushes off the ground and stands, holding out his hands for me. “Why were you touching the pipes in the first place?”
He steadies me as I get up, and I shake off the excess mud from my hands with a frustrated growl. “There was a leak under the sink, and I wanted to fix it. Mike made it look so simple.”
His eyebrows pinch together. “Who’s Mike?”
“The guy on the YouTube video.”
Landon rolls his lips together. “Rule Number One: Don’t listen to Mike.”
“Fucking Mike.”
“I can help you, you know.” He gestures to the house. “I can fix whatever needs fixing.”
“It’s fine.” I wave him off. “You’ve got your own life to worry about.”
“I want to help.”
“Why?” blurts out of me.
Intensity blusters through his expression as his eyes bore into mine like he’s waiting, like I’m supposed to know the answer.
I don’t.
I can’t fathom why he’s going out of his way to help me when we’ve hated each other all these years.
“Because this is your house. The house you grew up in when your parents were still alive.” An exhale blows through his lips. “It’s important to you.”
“But why do you care?”
“You don’t think I care about you?”
My chin jerks back. “Uh, no. You hate me, remember?”
His eyes tighten. “I don’t hate you, Ainsley. I’ve never hated you. Not even when I tried my hardest to.”
I step back, his words a physical blow to my chest. My mind whirls. Disbelief pinches my features, drawing my eyebrows down low.
“Yes, you do. Or at least you did.” I plant my hands on my hips. “You hated me and I hated you.”
He gives me a slow shake of his head. “That was never hate.”
“Then what was it?”
My heartbeat pulses loud in my ears as I wait for his response.
“Oh, good.” Ivori startles us both as she steps out onto the porch. “Someone who knows what he’s doing is here.”
My chin jerks back. “Wait, why are you here?”
Landon lifts his arm and gestures to my best friend.
My mouth falls open. “You called him?”
Ivori jingles her keys as she jogs down the porch steps. “Evan was busy. Gotta go. Sorry, bye!”
“Oh, no you don’t.” The mud squishes between my bare toes as I trudge back to the porch, trying to look menacing but I’m walking like a swamp monster.
She’s smirking at me like the cat who caught the canary. “You should let him lay some pipe for you.”
I lift my middle finger in front of her face, and she swats it away as she heads down the path to her car.
“What the hell is going on over there?”
I look across my yard to Bernard’s porch. “My first and last attempt at plumbing.”
He blows out a low whistle through his lips. “Looks like you’re making a moat around your house.”
I scowl. “Yeah, it’s to keep nosy neighbors like you away.”
He rasps out a laugh. “That Fletcher boy knows what he’s doing?”
I glance back at Landon over my shoulder. “Doubtful.”
“I don’t mess around with plumbing,” Bernard says, stroking his Golden Retriever, Buddy’s head. “Plumbing and electrical. You need the professionals for those.”
“Already on it,” Landon says, jogging up the porch stairs. “I called Gus. He’s going to swing by after his current stop.”
“Thanks. Listen, I’m sorry Ivori called you. I can handle it from here.”
Ignoring me, he reaches behind his neck and yanks his mud-covered shirt up and over his head. I’m frozen where I stand, my traitorous eyes devouring his bare body, sliding across his broad, chiseled shoulders, around the swell of his defined chest, and over each ridge and groove of his abdomen.
Damn.
This isn’t high school Landon. I mean, he looked good then, but this...this is much different.
I’m helpless as he pulls off his mud-covered sneakers, and then yanks down his basketball shorts, letting them fall in a heap on the porch. A dark dusting of hair trails down below his belly button, leading into his black boxer-briefs. My thighs clench.
Don’t look at his dick.
Don’t look at his dick.
Don’t look at his dick.
Landon clears his throat. “I’ve got a change of clothes in my trunk.”
“Huh?” My eyes snap up to his, and he’s wearing a satisfied smirk.
“Let me change and then I can take a look at anything else in the house that needs fixing.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say at his back, because he’s already jogging toward his Explorer.
I steal one more glance at him, watching the way his muscles ripple as he runs across the lawn. It’s clear he hasn’t been skipping leg day either. The fabric of his boxer-briefs cling to his round, muscular ass.
“Enjoying the view?”
My shoulders jump and I spin around to face Bernard. “Don’t you have something else to do today?”
“Nope.” He grins, rocking back in his chair. “This is the most excitement I’ll get all month.”
“You should find a hobby, you perv.”
His raspy laugh has the corners of my mouth curving along with it.
I step inside my house and yank down my joggers in the entryway, shimming them down my legs.
Then I grip the neck of my T-shirt and stretch it wide over my head to avoid getting more mud in my hair.
In my black sports bra and matching boy-shorts, I carry my clothes into the laundry room, careful not to drip mud through my house.
After starting a quick load in the washing machine, I step back into the living room to find Landon standing in the doorway.
In a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black T-shirt.
Dear Lord, the sweatpants are almost worse than the boxer-briefs.
But I don’t need to worry about him giving me shit for ogling him, because this time his eyes are on me.
Landon and I used to spend summers together at the beach with our friends. We’ve seen each other in our bathing suits countless times. This isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before.
Still, his eyes blaze a fiery trail down my body, an agonizingly deliberate perusal, like he’s memorizing every dip and curve. It burns through my skin, scorching my insides.
For some reason, I want to revel in it.
Stand here and soak up the desire emanating from his stare.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Might want to change before Gus gets here. Don’t need him seeing all of that.”
I arch a brow. “You checking me out, Fletcher?”
“Absolutely.”
My stomach dips. He’s honest, I’ll give him that.