He’s winning right now. It’s been a week, and I’m right back where I was when I first came here. Making myself unhappy, because…
Because I’m only worth anything if someone wants to love me.
Just like with them.
The tears that have been perpetually burning at the backs of my eyes for the last week dry, and I draw in a long, deep breath, releasing everything and the weight on my shoulders along with it.
I’m bigger than this. I want to live.
Spinning around, I leave the room and close the door, taking one last look at his space before I do.
Then, I head downstairs and into the shop, turning the music the guys are listening to up as I get started on the armoire.
Noah smiles at me, I pull on my goggles, and we all get to work.
Tiernan
Twisting the handle, I rev the engine, the back tire skidding under me and making a half moon in the snow. I sit down, lock my boots on the pedals, and speed off, racing up the salted driveway as the dark clouds hang overhead.
I love this weather. It’s in the twenties, and while December and January were painful it didn’t take long to toughen me up. I barely wear a coat outside these days.
I’m not even sure what day it is, only that it’s February. I think.
I pull to a stop at the shop door and take off my helmet, hanging it on the handlebar as I climb off the bike.
“I love it!” I tell Jake.
“Want one?”
I smile, watching him wipe the grease off his hands. “Maybe something street legal, instead.”
He shakes his head, and I lean on the washing machine, kicking off my boots. The cuff of my beautiful Aran Islands sweater is unraveling, a wool string hanging over my hand, but it only feels good, because I know my clothes have now been lived in, worn for hours and days doing things I love.
Five pieces of furniture sit around the shop—two end tables, a headboard, another chest, and the wardrobe. I would’ve finished more in the past couple of months, but I completed all my coursework already, got my college applications done, and tried a ton of new recipes, using our perishable food while it was still good.
It’ll still be at least eight weeks before I can taste a fresh, crisp apple, though. I can’t wait to get to town.
But then some days, I hope the snow never melts.
There’s dirt under my nails, and I never need make-up because I’m outside every day, earning my rosy cheeks.
Jake tosses the rag down and looks at me. “It doesn’t have to be street legal,” he tells me. “If you keep it here.”
I meet his eyes, but then bend over to scoop the clothes out of the dryer.
“For when you visit, I mean.”
I nod, but I don’t look at him again. I know what he wants. He’d love for me to stay, but he’ll settle for an assurance that this is home base when I’m on school breaks.
He’s assuming I’ve calmed down, and I’ll stay through the summer.
I can’t, though. I might be the reason Kaleb hasn’t come home. Maybe he will once I’m gone.
Without responding, I put the clean clothes on top of the dryer, toss in the wet ones, and jog up the stairs into the house.
Blowing into my hands, I rub them together as the heat of the fireplace warms the area. Guilt pricks at me as I refresh the dogs’ food and water. I don’t want to ignore Jake’s request, but I have two months yet. At least.
I don’t have to dread leaving them yet.
Of course, it seems like yesterday that I said the same thing in December.
Heading through the living room, I climb the stairs, but the front door opens behind me, and I look over my shoulder, seeing Noah step in. He kicks his boots of the snow and whips off his hat and work gloves.
He looks up, and my eyes meet his eyes.
He smiles like a devil, and my heart skips a beat.
No.
I gasp and bolt up the stairs, hearing his footfalls behind me, charging my ass. I squeal, grabbing his arm as he passes me, both of us stumbling and laughing as we race for the shower.
“I’m first!” I shout.
We both scramble for the bathroom, slamming into the door and falling inside. I tumble to the floor, and he follows, grabbing my legs to stop me from standing up. I kick him, screaming and laughing, and reach up for the sink, pulling myself up.
I dart for the shower, but he stands up, locking me in and pressing his body into mine.
My stomach shakes, feeling his heat and breath surround me.
And in a moment, everything quiets. The laughing stops.
He hovers over me, his chest rising and falling against mine, and I can smell the fire on his clothes from the burning he did outside.