6 #2
Drew paused and looked up from the instructions he’d been studying. He could feel a crease forming in the middle of his forehead as he tried to understand how that could even happen.
Savannah answered his question before he could ask it. “I was fixing some broken tiles on the backsplash, and honestly, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I’d used the toilet right before that, so I’m just glad I didn’t glue myself to myself, if you know what I mean.”
Drew felt a laugh start somewhere deep inside of him, and before he knew it, the sound was spilling out of his mouth. It felt good, and he absently wondered if maybe he should do it more often.
Savannah’s entire expression changed, and her eyes lit up from the inside. “Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” she demanded playfully.
“I’m sorry,” he managed, shaking his head. “I’m just trying to figure out how you would fix that.”
“Probably by hobbling around without pants,” she replied. This only made him laugh harder. “What can I say? I’m a disaster!” she cried, throwing her hands in the air.
“You’re somethin’ alright,” Drew murmured.
The words slipped out before he could censor them, and the second they left his lips, he wished he could take them back—not because they were hurtful or untrue, but because they cracked open a door he wasn’t ready to walk through.
Or have slammed in his face. “Hey, pass me that drawer slide,” he said hurriedly.
Savannah hesitated for only a second before reaching for the piece he wanted. “This one?” she asked, and he nodded. Then he let out a slow, tense breath.
Maybe she hadn’t heard him after all.
Or maybe she wasn’t ready to open that door either.
Sunday afternoon, Savannah opened her front door to admit Brooklyn and Ashlyn, both of whom had plastic take-out bags in their arms.
“I’m so glad you wanted Merlin’s!” Ashlyn raved as she breezed inside and set her load on the kitchen counter. “I haven’t had a burger from there in ages!”
Savannah sorted through the bags until she found the box marked “extra pickles, no onion” and popped it open. “Is it as good as I remember or am I hyping it up to myself?” she asked.
“No, it’s still good. Way better than anything in Cypress Valley,” Brooklyn confirmed. “Sometimes I drive home between classes just to get their cheese sticks.”
Savannah lifted the monstrous burger to her mouth and took the biggest bite she could manage. It wasn’t ladylike at all, but it was worth it. She groaned in satisfaction.
“See? I told you so,” Brooklyn said.
Savannah replied with a grunt before finally swallowing. “Okay, so what are we watching?” she asked.
“Rom-coms only,” Ashlyn declared, already making herself and her lunch comfortable on the floor in front of the love seat. “I brought options.”
Savannah glanced around and noticed that one of the plastic bags on the counter wasn’t from the restaurant. She opened it to find at least a dozen classic movies—everything from You’ve Got Mail to Pretty Woman. “Wow, you came prepared!” she said.
Ashlyn looked pleased.
“She’s the rom-com queen,” Brooklyn added. She settled onto the floor beside her cousin and put her take-out box on the coffee table. “Hey, this is cute!” she said, running her hand over the table’s wooden top. “Where’d you get it?”
Savannah brought the bag of movies over to where her friends were sitting and set her food on the table before starting to spread the DVDs on the carpet.
“The internet,” she answered. “Drew helped me put it together Friday night. The instructions were horrific.” She continued sorting the choices Ashlyn had brought, and it took several moments for her to realize the room had fallen silent.
She looked up to find both her friends studying her with curious expressions. “What?” she asked.
The other girls exchanged a loaded glance before Ashlyn broke the silence. “Did you say Drew helped you with this?”
Savannah paused, her eyes darting between the cousins. “Yes . . .”
Ashlyn seemed to stifle a smile.
“What’s wrong with that?” Savannah asked, feeling oddly defensive.
“Nothing’s wrong with it!” Ashlyn assured her quickly. “It’s just . . . interesting. That’s all.”
There was another long pause. Then Savannah caved.
“Why is it interesting?” she wondered aloud.
Ashlyn shrugged and went back to her french fries. “Oh, you know. Just the fact that he hates people and hates leaving his house and hates staying up late. Things like that.”
“Plus, rumor has it you’ve been riding with him a lot this past week,” Brooklyn added. “Is there anything going on?”
Savannah blew out a breath. “Ha! No, my apartment just gets really quiet after work, so Drew lets me tag along. I think he likes my company, but—”
“Girl,” Brooklyn interrupted, “we’re talking about my brother. ‘Likes your company’ is a big deal! Drew doesn’t like anybody’s company—especially not in his beloved combine; that’s like hallowed ground.”
“Well, okay, but that’s all it is,” Savannah insisted.
The other girls exchanged a skeptical look.
“I’m serious! I mean, yes, I sort of had a crush on him as a kid, okay? I don’t really think that’s a secret,” Savannah explained, “but he doesn’t see me like that. I’m definitely not his type.”
“Says who?” asked Ashlyn.
“Says . . . well, everything!” Savannah blurted. “I’m loud and crazy and chaotic, and Drew is just . . . not. Besides, you know how they say ‘if he wanted to, he would’? Well, he’s had plenty of time to make some kind of move, and he hasn’t, so there’s that.”
Not that she wanted him to, because she didn’t. She was past all that! Water under the bridge and whatever.
Ashlyn tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and leaned forward, as if preparing to impart some sort of secret wisdom to the group. “Savannah, you know Drew. He’s—”
“—slow,” Brooklyn cut in.
“—cautious,” Ashlyn amended with a hard glare at her cousin. “He takes his time.”
“That’s what I meant,” Brooklyn mumbled penitently.
Ashlyn pursed her lips before going on. “Just because he hasn’t done anything yet doesn’t mean he won’t. Give him some more time; you never know. Maybe a little chaos is exactly what he needs.”
Savannah huffed out a humorless laugh as Drew’s voice echoed in her mind.
“You’re somethin’ alright.”
Yeah . . . just because he finally tolerated her presence didn’t mean he could handle her particular brand of chaos. Or that he’d ever want to.