The Boyfriend Bid (The Girlfriend Request)
Page 3
Not that I wasn’t proud of my heritage, my mother’s Italian blood and my father’s African-American ancestry. Blended together, it made me who I am and helped me learn so much about both cultures growing up. But I still would have been fine without all the curls. Any time I wanted to straighten them, it took almost an hour.
I threw a robe over my nightgown and walked downstairs, the smell of fresh-brewed coffee a siren call to my tired brain. I slipped into a chair at our well-worn kitchen table and pulled a plate of English muffins toward me. I ignored the bowl of cut-up fruit, my body craving carbs.
“Morning, honey.” Mom kissed me on the head as she passed on her way to the refrigerator. “Juice?” She held up a jug of cran-grape.
“Sure.” I spooned homemade blueberry jelly on my muffin and smoothed it in all the nooks and crannies as I thanked her for breakfast.
In the past two years, I’d noticed worry-lines around Mom’s eyes that didn’t used to be there. I knew the divorce—amicable as it could be—hadn’t been particularly easy on her, although she always tried not to show it. I admired my mom and thought she was really strong. I probably didn’t tell her that as often as I should.
My parents’ divorce combined with the whole my being cheated on thing just served as a reminder for me of how I didn’t need a guy. After all, my parents had loved each other. Until they didn’t. There had been no big catalyst. They’d tried to explain it away to us kids that they simply fell out of love, even though they both still loved us. It only went to prove to me how love doesn’t last. It brings nothing but heartache.
I jumped up. “I’m getting some coffee, do you need a refill?” I motioned toward her giant mug with the carafe.
“Sure.” She nodded.
I poured some of the hot liquid into her mug as well as my own.
“Where’s Scotty?” My little brother was usually up at the crack of dawn, playing with his Legos or video games.
“He’s still asleep. So shh, let’s be thankful we still have some quiet time.” Her eyes crinkled in a smile over the rim of her mug.
I grinned.
“What time do you need to be at the new site?”
My poor old Bug was in the shop since the accident after school, so my mom would be driving me. I tried to ignore the fact that it was somewhat humiliating to have to be carted around by your mother your senior year of high school.
“By eight,” I replied. “Which means I have to get a move on. I still need to shower and get dressed.” I shoved the last of my muffin in my mouth and raced back upstairs to get ready for my day.
People in fluorescent vests and yellow and orange requisite hard hats milled all around the site by the time I arrived, grabbed my tote, and jumped out of the car. I leaned back in. “I’ll be done at five o’clock.”
“Got it. I’ll be here.” My mom waved. “Have fun, and be safe!”
“I will.” I smiled and shut the door. She was such a worrywart.
I hurried over to a group of people I recognized from several other projects we’d worked on together. Julie, from my Spanish class, was one of them.
“Hey, sleeping beauty. Finally decide to join us?” She laughed and handed me a small paper cup of coffee from the table next to her. She knew about my caffeine addiction. I accepted it with a grateful smile.
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” I breathed in the rich aroma. Julie’s parents ran a coffeehouse in town, and she always kept us stocked with tall thermoses of the good stuff.
“No problem.” She glanced around. “Looks like we have a couple of new faces this time.”
“Where’s mine?” Julie’s boyfriend, Steve, ambled over and eyed our steaming mugs. He leaned in to give Julie a quick kiss. She grinned and reached behind her to fill another cup.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks, love.” His eyes warmed looking at her, and I envied their easy affection for each other.
That was the kind of thing I missed the most—the simple things like a quick kiss without really having to even think about it or a guy wrapping his arms around my waist. Or snuggling together watching a movie. I didn’t need fancy dinners, I just wanted to know that someone really got me and wanted nothing more than to be with me. And vice versa. But obviously that kind of love only existed in the movies.
I shook the melancholy thoughts from my mind. They were like a spiderweb, creeping in and filling my head up with strands of what ifs. It was better to not let those kinds of thoughts in at all.
I knew I had a lot to be grateful for. I had some amazing friends who were always there for me. Even though my parents divorced, I knew they’d both still do anything for me when it came right down to it. I missed my older brother, Pete, who was away at college, but we still emailed or FaceTimed, and I saw him whenever he came home for breaks. And Scotty? Well, he could be annoying, but he was still a pretty decent little kid. I was lucky.
I swallowed the last of my now-lukewarm coffee and tossed the empty cup in the trash. I reached into my tote bag and pulled out a pair of well-broken-in work gloves and slipped them on. I resolved to stay positive—the sun was out, and I was here to do something I loved. Nothing could get me down today.
Chapter Four
Chance
You’re as cold as ice
You’re willing to sacrifice our love ~ Foreigner
“Watch your head!”
I ducked reflexively to the shouted command. A wooden two-by-four swung above me, just inches away.
“Sorry about that!” a beefy-looking guy perched on a ladder above me shouted down.
I waved to let him know it was all good.
I pulled off my work gloves and wiped some sweat from my forehead. I’d been helping carry what seemed like hundreds of beams from a huge truck to unload them in their designated area. I couldn’t imagine doing this kind of labor in the dead of summer. My respect for all the workers surrounding me grew. I’d heard most of them volunteered year-round.
Today was my first day with the Habitat program. After the local SPCA shut down, I needed to find somewhere else to volunteer to earn my hours for the graduation requirement. It had been this or roadside trash duty. My academic advisor, Mr. M, had shown me a brochure for the Youth Habitat program and it looked like something I’d really enjoy, so I’d signed up.
I regretted wearing such a heavy sweatshirt. The air temperature might only have been in the high forties, but with all the exertion in the past couple of hours, it felt more like high eighties. Screw it. I shoved my gloves into the back pocket of my jeans to free up my hands, then yanked the sweatshirt over my head. The chilly air felt awesome against my bare arms. My T-shirt stuck against my chest from the sweat I’d worked up. I used my forearm to wipe some damp hair out of my eyes, then tossed the sweatshirt on the ground a few feet away.
This whole build-a-house thing was a little more difficult than the brochure made it look. I was feeling out of my element compared to all of the other workers bustling around, everyone seeming to know exactly where to be, what they were supposed to do, and how to do it.
Give me a soccer ball and I’m your guy. Throw me on a construction site, apparently not so much.
I sighed and picked my hammer back up. It didn’t much help matters that I hadn’t known to bring my own tools. One of the girls working near me had been nice enough to let me borrow hers. It had a purple handle. The fact that so far I didn’t know what the hell I was doing wasn’t helping my self-esteem.
Even feeling out of place and pretty much inept, it still felt good to be here—to know I was helping build a home for a family. I grinned and slid my gloves back on. I picked up a couple of nails and stuck them in my mouth to free up my hands so I could better attack the beams in front of me.
One of the members of the crew had taken the time to show me how to space the nails apart before pounding them in. I took a nail from my lips, pointed it against the wood, and held it steady. Squinting, I took aim and swung the hammer.
 
; Pain exploded through my thumb.
“Son of a—” The remaining nails in my mouth flew out with my yell.
A couple of workers around me chuckled and offered knowing looks.
“Your first time?” a voice called to me.
I glanced over, thumb still throbbing. Some girl who looked about five foot nothing with braids poking out from beneath her hard hat grinned at me.
I nodded. “That obvious?”
She laughed. “Don’t worry about it, we’ve all been there.” She walked toward me. “Hey, I’m Jenna.” She held out her hand.
I reached out to shake. “Chance.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Chance. We’re always happy to have new volunteers.” She glanced down. “You probably want to get a heavier pair of work gloves if you’re going to come back again.”
I nodded. “Noted.”
She squinted against the sun to look me in the eyes. “Who are you working with?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, whenever someone new joins the crew, they’re paired up with someone to show them the ropes for the first few days. Didn’t Mr. M assign you to pair up with someone?” She glanced around, a question in her eyes.
“Umm…he didn’t mention it to me.” I shrugged. “I’ve just been kind of trying to figure it out on my own.”
“C’mon, I was about to take a break to grab a drink anyway. I’ll help you find whoever it is he assigned you to.” She nodded her head toward the refreshment table set up a few yards away.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” I felt kind of dumb, realizing it must be glaringly obvious I didn’t have the slightest idea what I was doing.
“Of course I do. I’m happy to help.” Jenna smiled again beneath her hard hat.
“Okay, thanks.”
I followed Jenna to the refreshment area. I’d been told they bring pizza in later in the day and anyone interested can chip in toward it, or we can choose to bring our own lunch.
Several people greeted Jenna as we approached.
“Hey, everyone. This is Chance. He’s new to the whole thing, so be nice to him.”
Rounds of his and heys followed, this time directed at me. Everyone was smiling and seemed genuinely glad to see a new face.
Jenna stood a few steps away, talking to a tall guy in a plaid shirt who consulted a clipboard. She motioned me over. “We figured it out. You’re teamed up with Sarah.” She smiled.
It couldn’t be the same Sarah. There was no way.
She scanned the area. I looked at my work boots.
“Oh, there she is!” Jenna pointed. She grabbed my elbow and tugged. “C’mon, I’ll take you to her.”
No way. No freaking way.
“Great.” I followed Jenna, trying to figure out what to say the whole way over. I recognized Sarah even from behind wearing a hard hat. Her long hair was tied back and fell in a mass of curls halfway to her waist. I tried not to notice how well she filled out her worn jeans.
“Sarah!” Jenna called out when we were steps away.
I held my breath, preparing myself for what was sure to come. I remembered her expression when I’d asked for her phone number. It was a cross between I’ve just swallowed a bug and hearing Take out your pencils for a pop quiz. But there was just something about her, so I decided to just view it as a challenge to win her over.
Sarah turned.
Her wide smile immediately tightened a bit when she saw me next to Jenna, but to her credit, she hid her shock at seeing me well.
“Jenna, hey. What’s up?” She didn’t look in my direction to include me in the greeting.
“I found this guy and I think he belongs to you.” Jenna tipped her head my way.
Sarah pressed her lips together in a smile so fake I thought her face might crack. “Great. Thanks.”
“No problem, see you guys later.” Jenna waved and walked away.
Seconds ticked by, neither of us saying a word.
She finally broke the silence. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“Today’s my first day.” I stared her straight in the eyes and offered her a small smile. I got a glimmer of her choking on a bug face in return.
The awkward silence returned.
She glanced down to my hands. “Nice hammer.”
“Thanks.” I refused to rise to her bait.
Sounds of chatter, hammering, drills buzzing, and occasional laughter carried our way as we stood looking at each other, not speaking.
Sarah let out a long sigh. “Fine. Follow me, watch what I do. If you have a question, ask.” She paused for a beat. “Got it?”
“Got it.”
She still hadn’t moved.
She took a deep breath, then said, “This project really means something to me. I hope you aren’t just here to screw around.”
I stared at her. “Why would you think I was?”
She looked me in the eyes for several seconds, like she was trying to read my mind. The intensity of her gaze rattled me, but I fought not to show it.
She shook her head. “Never mind, sorry if I made assumptions. Let’s get to work.”
“You got it, boss.”
She eyeballed me once more, then spun around to lead us over to a partially framed wall a large group was working on.
At least she hadn’t hit me with her hammer. I guessed that meant we were making progress.
Chapter Five
Sarah
Remember those walls I built? Well baby they’re tumbling down…standing in the light of your halo ~ Beyoncé
I was super conscious of Chance walking so close behind me that I could practically hear him breathing.
Why couldn’t I get any kind of real read on him?
It didn’t matter. I didn’t have to share pleasantries with him or chat about our favorite movies. I didn’t need to get to know him better. We’d talk about our work and that was it.
I showed him how to sort out some of the different-sized nails and screws and which containers to put them in. “Sometimes we get donations and they’re all mixed up in a giant bin, so it’s up to us to sort through and see what we have,” I explained. “You can work on this a while.” I tried not to notice his broad shoulders as I gave him the directions.
He glanced up from where he sat on the ground, picking nails out one at a time before placing them in the appropriate labeled container. “Seriously? This is all you’re going to show me how to do? Don’t they have people to do this while we work?” He raised an eyebrow.
His simple question grated on me for some reason. I put a hand on my hip. “Look, this may seem beneath you, being a star soccer player and all, but it’s a part of the job and it needs to get done. We all take turns doing it.”
“Whoa. What does the fact that I play soccer have to do with anything?” He looked genuinely taken aback, and his hand holding a three-inch nail paused above the plastic tub.
I ignored his question as some horrible part of me kept attacking him for no good reason. “I get it. You have volunteer hours you have to complete, you got stuck here, and you consider helping with something like that,” I pointed, “beneath you.” Doug had never taken my passion for working at Habitat seriously, and the rational part of me wondered if I was unfairly throwing all my displaced anger in Chance’s direction.
“Wow. Are you always this pleasant, or did you save up all your sunshine to blast my way?” His jaw tightened. “What exactly is your problem with me, anyway?”
I shrugged. “I don’t have a problem. I just don’t like guys who act like they’re better than people around them. Especially jocks like you.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I was appalled at my own behavior.
He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then leaned back on both forearms and studied me instead. “So who was he?”
“What?” My hand on my hip tightened, and my nails dug into my waist bone even through my jeans.
“There’s no way you’re that ang
ry at me. I barely know you, and you sure as hell don’t know me.” He cocked his head, and his stupid bangs spilled into his chocolate eyes. I hated myself for even noticing what color eyes he had.
“Maybe I just know guys like you,” I countered.
“Maybe.” He tipped his head. “But I think this is probably more about one specific guy.”
“You’re wrong.” I gritted my teeth together.
“Maybe,” he said again. “But I doubt it.”
He turned and went back to sorting nails before I could even respond.
I fought to level my breathing. I was angry at myself for my behavior but had no idea how to backpedal out of the situation. My heart pounded in my chest so hard I was sure Chance could hear it. But he didn’t look up again, just kept picking pieces out of the bin and sorting, ignoring me.
“I’m going to grab some of the shingles to bring over,” I told him.
“Okay.” He still didn’t look up.
I twisted the drawstring of my hoodie, feeling guilty.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“Nope, I’m good, but thanks.” He kept busy sorting.
He wouldn’t even look at me. I sighed in exasperation before I wheeled around and walked away, leaving him sitting alone.
I could have sworn I heard him chuckle.
Jerk.
The workday was finally over. Chance and I managed not to murder each other, and we’d fallen into a kind of unspoken groove. I’d politely tell him what we needed to work on, and he would just as politely nod, smile, and proceed to do whatever I asked of him.
He hadn’t complained all day, not once.
He got along well with the other workers, smoothly fitting in and doing his part. I’d caught him a few times chatting in small groups or telling corny jokes as he worked. I had to try to hide my laughter at a few of them; I wasn’t ready to let him think he was winning me over. Or to admit it to myself.
Our site leader, Rick, clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. We all stood around, tired after a long day’s work. “Thanks again to each and every one of you for so generously giving up your time and talents to help make this family’s dream come true. Your selfless commitment really does make a difference to so many.” He looked around to include each of us in his words. “And thanks to you, we’ve made a great start today.”