Rob had wiped his hands on a rag, then said, “What did your mom say?”
“She doesn’t know. Will you take me? I can give you gas money.” At the time, Nadia had her license and a car. I could’ve asked her to drive me but I was afraid she’d punk out and blab to my mom about the plan. Why I had no such fear with him, to this day, I didn’t understand.
“Why don’t you call him?”
“I just need to see him. Please, Rob?” What I didn’t tell him was that I didn’t plan on coming home. I’d live with my dad from then on; my mom could ship my clothes, presuming she could manage it. Whatever, I’d buy more. I just wanted out. Her depression had only made my issues worse, and it had been all I could do to sit through a school day. It would be different with my dad; everything would be fine.
In the end, Rob had sighed and agreed.
With his help, I found my dad, unemployed, living in a shitty apartment with some woman I’d never heard of, apparently raising a couple of her kids. One might’ve been his—I was too upset to get the facts straight. But the worst part was, he didn’t even look happy to see me. To him, I was a nuisance. He invited us in, but we didn’t stay longer than half an hour, after coming all that way. Out in the parking lot, I burst into tears and Rob just hugged me. He didn’t say anything at all, probably because he knew no words could make it better. So there was no way I’d let him disparage himself now when he’d been proving his worth my entire life.
“I remember that,” he said finally.
“Me, too.”
The silence between us was odd and fraught, laced with old memories. I wondered if he had any idea that I used to crouch beneath the banisters and watch him with Katie Everett. In my head, he was still the gold standard for kissing, just endless tenderness without rushing straight for boobs or butt. Though four of the eight guys I’d slept with were good in bed, none had that quintessential Rob patience, and if he’d been that way in high school, his control as a man must be awe-inspiring.
Lucky Avery.
I siphoned the bitterness out of the thought as he studied my face. I’d never noticed him doing that before, but I felt each shift and slip of his gaze, as if his eyes were zoom lenses. My heart thumped so hard in my chest that I was afraid he’d hear it. Really, I should be over this.
“Do you mind if I take some measurements in your bedroom?”
Do anything you want in there.
“Go ahead. I do that all the time for fun. I’m like, ‘I wonder if this wall is ten or eleven feet long. Let’s find out!’” My voice came out manic-perky.
Rob cut me a strange look as he brushed by and headed for the stairs. He was efficient with the tape measuring, checking the spot my new bed would occupy. But having him up here made me want to die because it reinforced every preconception he must have about my maturity. I sat on a stuffed unicorn and hated my life.
But then he surprised me by saying, “I can see why you’re redecorating. It’s been a long time, huh?”
Grateful, I beamed up at him. “Yeah.”
Smiling back, he tapped the tip of my nose. “So when do you want to work on my spreadsheet?”
I shrugged. “It’s not like I have a job. And I meant to tell you, if I was remotely helpful the other day, I’m glad to pitch in again, anytime you need me.”
“If you’re serious, we could get a lot done while Avery’s gone.” His expression suggested this was a prison furlough. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on my part.
I quelled the urge to snap at him to break up with her already. When a guy like Rob committed to a relationship, only C-4 could shake him loose...and questioning his choice might make him determined to dig in.
“Absolutely.” Though I hated myself for wondering, I had to know. “Do you miss her?”
He nodded. “We don’t make sense on paper, but she needs me. That...doesn’t happen a lot. She calls me some nights before bed, says she can’t sleep unless she hears my voice. She’s really funny, too.”
In a mean way, I guessed silently. But these insights actively wounded me, picturing their conversations while Rob lay in bed. Her voice was the last thing he heard, too.
I kept my tone level as I changed the subject. “How about this? We work on remodeling until we’re tired. Then we rest and tackle your budget. When you get sick of that, we resume sanding or whatever.”
“I can’t take up all your time,” he protested.
“What’s a month? I need to keep busy or I’ll doubt my decision to come home.”
“It’s a deal. I’ll have your bed done by next week.”
“Do you deliver?”
“If you need me to.”
So many things I could say. But I forced myself not to be flirty. That was mostly a front anyway, manufactured to keep guys from figuring out how weird and awkward I could be. Left to my own devices, I’d rather watch llama gifs than go to a club. Ironic, since I’d learned all kinds of moves from music videos on the internet. Nadia thought I’d suddenly blossomed in tenth grade, but everything I knew about hair and makeup, I’d learned from YouTube tutorials. I could fake being a regular girl, but really, I was still besties with my laptop and PlayStation, which helped me perfect mad dance skills through gaming.
I grinned. “Considering I’d have to carry it home from your place, yeah.”
“Okay. When do you want to start with this trade-off?”
“Tomorrow?” I suggested.
“Is nine too early?”
With résumés turned in, I had nothing else to do. “Nope. Do you mind picking me up?”
“Not at all.” Rob headed for the door because our business was done, but he paused, wearing a faint frown. “Don’t wear anything cute.”
“Because...we hate cuteness? It—and not money—is the root of all evil?”
To my everlasting delight, he played along. “Truly. In fact, we’d better set off on a world-saving mission instead. You and me, destroying cuteness wherever we find it.”
“We’ll have to burn all the Build-A-Bears. The children will never understand.”
“But that’s why we have to succeed, Lauren. For the children.” His mock-earnest look was so perfect and adorable that if he were my boyfriend, I’d shove him onto my unicorn-strewn purple comforter and do dirty things to him.
I met his gaze and nodded with resigned stoicism. “I’m in.”