Chapter 9 #2
“Oh, it’s a she, huh? I never thought I’d see the day when Connor Porter was caught up on a girl,” he teases.
“Remember how you always used to roll your eyes at the guys on the team who had girlfriends coming to their games? The only girls who came to cheer for you were your mom, sister, and Shayna Monroe.” He blows out a low breath.
“She was beautiful, even in high school. I wonder what she’s up to now. Do you know?”
I grit my teeth and hope my words come out sounding less tense than I feel. “That’s the friend I’m helping.”
“Oh, sorry, man. Didn’t realize she was your girl. Good for you. I always wondered if she had a thing for you.”
My brow furrows. I don’t know what’s happening or why he thinks we’re dating when I’ve only referred to Shayna as my friend. That’s even pushing it. Acquaintance-slash-friend-of-my-sister is more like it. And why would he think she had a thing for me?
My mind is swirling with questions when Pat’s voice comes back through the speaker. “Just ask Shayna what color she’d like it painted, and consider it done. I’ll get everything covered as a gift to an old friend. Consider it an early wedding present.”
My eyes bug out. Wedding present? It’s like we’re both having an entirely different conversation.
“Drop the truck off whenever you can, and I’ll get the job expedited for you, no problem.”
“Uh, thanks?”
“Just promise you’ll come to our pickup game next month, and it’s a done deal.”
I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair. “As long as I’m not on shift at the station.”
“Works for me. Later, man. Tell the missus hi for me.”
The line clicks, and I grab the handle of the passenger door to keep from falling over. How did we go from friends to fiancés to an old married couple within the stretch of two minutes?
Shayna chooses this exact moment to emerge from the house.
The wind blows her short hair back, making it look like a slow-motion montage in a movie or like a model walking down a runway.
Objectively, I can see why Pat said she was beautiful.
She’s always had a certain aura of joy about her that draws people in.
But right now, on the way to pick up the truck to open her dream business, she shines brighter than the sun.
I don’t know what words are even bigger than joy.
Maybe exuberant. Glowing. Vivacious. Sparkling.
All the complete opposite of any words that have ever been used to describe me.
Get your head in the game, Porter.
I can’t let Pat’s words get to me, because while Shayna might be beautiful, this is nothing more than a friend helping out another friend.
I open the passenger door for her.
“Thanks.” Shayna raises her strawberry matcha toward me and hops in with ease.
I dip my head in a nod and ensure she’s situated before shutting the door and jogging around to the driver’s side.
I step up into the cab of my truck. As my butt hits the driver’s seat, I’m hit with a wave of nostalgia, remembering the smell of Mallory, Shayna, Alyssa, and Kelsey’s perfumes that would leave a weird aroma in here for days whenever I’d drive them around in high school.
But right now, all I smell is Shayna’s perfume. By itself, it’s intoxicating. A perfect mixture of florals that’s pleasant, but not overwhelming.
I clench my jaw, furious at myself for letting Pat’s words get to my head.
“I’ll navigate,” Shayna announces. She places her drink in the cup holder, then reaches down, grabs my car cable, and plugs it into her phone. Soon enough, the navigation directions blare through the speakers. “I can’t believe you still have Sulley.”
I feel the lines on my forehead crease. “Sulley?”
“Yeah.” She runs her hand along the dash. “I can’t believe he’s still running.”
“Sulley?” I repeat. “He?”
“Well, you never named your truck, and you drove us around so much in high school that I named him for you.”
“You named my truck?” I blink.
“We already went over this.” She rolls down the window and rests her elbow there, letting in the cool spring breeze.
“Why did you name him—it—Sulley?”
“He’s blue and can come across a little grumpy and standoffish, but he’s soft in the end. It just took the right person coming along.”
“The right person?”
“Boo.”
“What?” I ask, utterly confused by this conversation. It’s not Halloween, and there’s not a ghost in sight. “Is that supposed to be a knock-knock joke?”
“Boo was the girl who came along and helped him soften, made him care.” She leans over and pats my arm. My whole body tenses. I think my shoulders might become a permanent part of my neck around her. “I just wanted you to know I’ve never seen you as a grumpy, standoffish monster.”
I nod slowly. “Good to know.”
Without missing a beat, she says, “Who were you talking to on the phone before I came outside?”
“Pat.”
“Pat Young? From high school?”
My lips press into a thin line. Of course, she’d remember him. Maybe he had it all wrong, and he was the guy she was crushing on. “Yeah.”
“What’s he up to nowadays?”
“He owns a local body shop.” She doesn’t say anything, so I continue.
“He said that there’s a mechanic next door that can do any needed work, and then he’ll paint the exterior of the truck.
Pat’s willing to do the work for free and expedite it so it’s ready for your event.
He just needs to know what color you want it painted. ”
She’s uncharacteristically quiet. I glance over at her when we reach a stop sign and see tears on her cheeks.
Crap, did I overstep by trying to help?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you—I thought I was helping.”
Shayna shakes her head and uses the sleeve of her blazer to wipe her cheeks. “These are happy tears. I can’t believe you did all that for me.” She leans over and wraps her arms around me in a hug. “Thank you, Connor.”
“You’re welcome.” I swallow hard, trying not to think about the fact that her arms are around me. “So, uh, what color do you want the truck?”
Shayna opens her mouth and shuts it again before shrugging. “I don’t know.”
“Well, what’s your favorite color?”
She shrugs again. “I work around such a variety of beautiful colors with all the different blooms that it feels unfair to discriminate against any of them.”
If that isn’t the most Shayna thing I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is.
Shayna has always been the girl who thinks about everyone around her.
Always made sure everyone was included at school.
Worried about other people’s needs and preferences above her own.
Like how she couldn’t care less about any sports but still came to almost all of my baseball games in high school with Mallory and my mom just to support me, even in the pouring rain.
It makes me wonder if there’s anyone who shows up for her in the same capacity she does for everyone else.
I shake my head. I’m doing what I can to offer my assistance, and the rest isn’t up to me. “Okay then, what color brings you the most joy?”
Shayna grabs her drink and takes a sip. “Huh.” She tilts her head, making her straight dark-brown hair swing with the movement. “I never thought about it like that.” She only has to think for a second before saying, “Yellow.”
“I’ll let Pat know when we see him.”
“Wow.” She wiggles on the bench seat. “We haven’t even picked up the truck yet, and you’ve already figured out so much of my checklist. I didn’t even know where to start. Thank you.”
I grip the steering wheel harder, forcing myself not to look over at her beaming smile and ignoring the strange mix of emotions swirling within me.
While I’m normally most comfortable in silence, I feel the need for a change in conversation.
I’m thinking of things I could say when I remember what she mentioned earlier about not being able to say no to mechanics.
“By the way, you know blinker fluid isn’t real, right? ”
“It’s not?” She groans. “Thank goodness you’re here.”