16
“This is going to be great!” Brenna says to me, too cheery.
“It’s more than we thought it was going to be, I know, but I really think we’ll like having a bigger rec room.” I say more to myself than to the others. There are about ten of my sorority sisters with me and we are all sweaty already, with one cut finger and a bruised toe so far.
And it’s only been fifteen minutes.
They look at me, annoyed. It was my grand idea—I campaigned on it to become president of the house this year—to swap the rec room with the formal living room because the formal living area is much bigger and brighter and doesn’t get used very much. But now I’m looking around at antique armoires and solid marble side tables and thinking maybe this was a mistake.
“Once Shep gets here it’ll be—” I stop talking when I see him. Adam, here. In the doorway. In a plain black t-shirt with his work boots and work jeans and with a hat on. Backwards.
Now I know why it’s silent in here.
All the females are staring with their mouths hanging open.
“Uh, someone let me in.” He finally says to me.
“Hey!” I snap out of it. “Okay, that’s fine, but where’s Shep?”
“Probably on the bathroom floor.”
I grimace, looking away. “Oh.” My eyes meet him again. “But, what are you doing here?”
“You needed help,” he says like I just asked him the dumbest question of all time. Despite his grouchy tone, the facts of the matter send flutters through my chest cavity.
I need help, and here he is. Just because.
I smile and blush and fight the urge to jump up and down. “Right! Thanks! Um, so I had the bright idea of swapping this room with that room,” I poke my thumb over my shoulder to the doorway behind me. “And we got started, but it turns out every piece of furniture weighs like a thousand pounds.”
Adam looks around, then goes to the nearest armoire and shifts it slightly. I don’t miss that more girls have gathered in the hall and every one of them just studied how my boyfriend’s arms and shoulders worked under his shirt. I mean fake boyfriend! Future boyfriend?
“I have a dolly and some straps. And I’ll make some freshmen come up here.”
“Okay,” I say, my voice a little breathy. “Thanks.”
He nods and leaves the room, pulling out his cell as he goes.
“Was that Adam Bell? The football player?” Brenna gushes.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Are you best friends with all the players then?” Someone jokes, knowing that Shep and I are buddies. They probably heard he’d be coming today. Everyone either knows him or knows of him. Half the girls probably have a story. He’s such a flirt.
I chuckle, “No, not real—”
Then I’m bombarded with questions, all the girls talking at once. I don’t miss the swooning and sighing. I definitely make out the words biceps, eyes and butt. A lot of mentions of Adam’s butt.
“So are you and Adam dating?” Someone gets their question out over the others.
“No,” I start but the second I say it, I see him behind the crowd of girls, frowning in my direction. They don’t see him as he tilts his head the tiniest bit, as if he’s asking me what the heck I’m saying. This is an opportunity to solidify our faux relationship, not knock it. I look away from his deep brown gaze and talk a little louder. “I mean, we’ve been working together for our dads and, like, talking, but technically we haven’t been on a date yet.”
The girls start to chatter again until they see him coming into the doorway. He moves the dolly into the room and sets down some straps as the girls stare. Someone in the hall sing-songs, “I’ll go make some lemonade for the boys!”
That restarts the chatterbox all around us, so Adam probably thinks no one will hear him when he mutters a reply to me.
“I bought those hot dogs.”
But we are women.
We hear everything.
Brenna gasps, “Susan! The man says he bought you hot dogs.”
I roll my eyes because all the girls double down, suddenly very much on Team Adam. “That was on a work trip. Company card.”
“Oh, then yeah, that doesn’t count.” All the girls swap teams immediately, echoing Brenna’s dismay. I just shake my head but Adam seems to be ignoring the whole thing, which just will not do as far as Brenna is concerned. She takes a couple steps toward him where he’s loading a side table onto his dolly. “You better lock her up, man. I know of two Lambda Chis and at least one SigEp who want to ask her to date parties.”
“That’s true,” Cameron chimes in.
“Oh yeah?” Adam responds absently, totally unconcerned. Of course. The girls don’t know that no matter how many frat boys are interested, it doesn’t matter. I will say no if they ask me because I’m supposed to be spoken for.
“Those are just date parties. Plus, Adam is the team captain, his entire life is going to be football for the next few months, he doesn’t have a lot of time for dates.”
My plan worked. There’s so much ooing and aahhing about him being team captain, they forget about him not seeming too thrilled to actually date me.
“Now let’s start helping move all this stuff. We don’t need men to do everything for us!” I redirect them again. Cameron helps me grab onto the low, round, absolutely huge marble coffee table. We can’t lift it. “Okay,” I exhale. “We need men to do some things for us.” The girls laugh and I think, only because I’m staring at it intently, I catch the corner of Adam’s mouth hitch up a tiny bit.
The freshmen guys show up and start moving things while the girls pretend to move things so they can watch. After a half hour or so Brenna reluctantly looks away from the men to me.
“Guess I should start studying. Can I grab your book like you said?”
“Oh yeah, it’s in my car.”
She extends her hand. “Keys?”
“I don’t have them down here but actually, my window got busted out a few nights ago on Campus Corner so you can just grab it.”
“That sucks!”
“Yeah, thankfully it hasn’t rained.” I say before someone asks me another question and the afternoon barrels on.
We—okay they—work for a couple hours. The freshmen brought more dollies and straps, so what would’ve taken me and Shep an entire day went by pretty quickly. Nothing was scratched or broken, lots of eyelashes were batted, much lemonade consumed.
Adam didn’t laugh or flirt but he was relaxed, at ease. He asked me where and how I wanted things and then told his guys how best to strap and move each piece. He also moved a few heavy items by himself, just picked up a side table without the dolly or straps and hauled it off, arms screaming under his black tee. I think I licked my lips at him, but he didn’t see.
A pretty good day, really.
Now the sweaty bunch is bounding down the front steps toward two pick up trucks parked on the narrow, tree lined street out front. Adam leaves the house last, making sure they didn’t leave any gear behind.
“Hey,” I say to him as he goes down the steps. His shirt is stuck to him in a few places, highlighting bulging back muscles I didn’t know existed. He looks back with one brow quirked. “Thank you.” I smile.
He nods and is about to leave but then turns around again. “No frat date parties, right?”
“I, I mean,” I’m so surprised by his question I stutter.
“Susan. No date parties.”
“Right! Right. Yeah.” He looks behind me right as I hear them, an audience of girls watching us from multiple windows. Adam looks at the windows, then the two pickup trucks filled with guys, all staring at their captain. Then he locks eyes with me. I get the message; do something!
“Sh-should I hug you?” I whisper.
He looks down, “I’m pretty gross.” Then he smirks at me and says, “You wanna punch me in the arm again?”
“Can we just forget that I did that? I was under duress!”
“Never.”
“Ugh!” I half-laugh-half-yell up at the sky.
“Just come give me a hug, dorky spice.” He opens his arms.
I start down the stairs, “You do remember I said some others, cutie spice, smarty spice,” but my voice gets muffled by his chest as he gathers me into himself. It’s like hugging a heater, he’s so warm. His shirt is soft and he smells like sawdust and mint, and, yes, sweat. But it smells good. Like him, like his truck. Like road trips and playlists and the start of something.
We only hug for a second before I start to melt into him, into the scent and the warmth. But he must sense it, so he pulls away. As he does, though, he…
He…
He just kissed the top of my head.
I freeze in surprise, my arms still slightly outstretched, mouth hanging open.
“See you at the game,” He says over his shoulder. I mumble something in reply, not sure what because my mouth is like jello, but he’s already jogged halfway across the front lawn.
In a daze, I go back into the house, greeted by much squealing and sighing. I’m sure it all looked very dreamy from the big bay window seats. I eat a snack, drink a lemonade, and finish moving the stuff that was inside the armoires from their temporary piles in the hall.
But mostly I reel.
I’m still reeling hours later when I get a call from an unknown caller.
“Hello?” I answer, because they call twice in a row. Could be a Canton Cards store manager who somehow got my cell number.
“Yes, is this Susan Canton?” A male voice says.
“Yes?”
He clears his throat. “Yeah this is Mick Lainer, Lainer Glass, I’m at your vehicle ready to replace your window.”
“You’re…what?”
“Mr. Bell called about your window, we’re here for the install, if you can meet me here to unlock the vehicle so I can access the interior door panel.”
“Uh, yeah. Yes. Sure, I’ll be right down.” I grab my keys and start for the stairs.
I realize then it’s not just the shocking kiss to the head. Showing up here to haul furniture? Eavesdropping and calling for someone to fix my car?
It’s official.
Adam Bell is the most surprising person I’ve ever met. Sure, he is closed off. He is bitter and has some deep issues to work on with his family. But he’s real. I am getting to know him and it makes me realize I didn’t ever get to know the real Josh at all. And the strong, silent man I am coming to know is compelling. I’m drawn to him.
He has become my friend, I think. I also think, based on the jersey incident and the fireman and the way he demanded I not date earlier, that he likes me as more than just a friend. Whether he likes that he likes me or not.
And I know it shouldn’t, I know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t help it. I grow absolutely giddy at the thought. Because now I can’t help but wonder…
What will his next surprise be?