Page 5 of 10 Things I Skate About You

“—question, like a grown-up who understands we’re getting the most affordable slot of the day and Ms. Percy isn’t getting paid enough to deal with this crap.”

“Good point. I’ll petition to get Ms. Percy a raiseanda better scheduling system for the arena.”

When we reach the exterior doors, we both push them open, but his gigantic bag knocks against me.

“Excuse me!”

“I was opening the door for you,” he says. “You want a ride home?”

My brain freezes for a second. “What?”

He looks back at me as he pulls his knitted beanie down over his ears. He’s such a wuss when it comes to cold weather, but damn it, he looks good in a beanie. “Would you like me to drop you off at your place? Since your shitty old Jeep is in the shop?”

“She isn’t shitty, and no, I don’t want you to drive me anywhere. No.” I pull out my phone and open up my Uber app.

“You want to stand out here for fifteen minutes when I could get you home in five?”

“How do you know it takes five minutes to get to my place?”

“Calm down, Red. I was guessing.”

My Uber—there are only three Uber drivers in Kenton—is indeed fifteen minutes away. I close the app and say, “He’ll be here in five minutes, and I’ll go back inside.”

“Okay, Red. Don’t say I never tried to do something nice for you.”

“Okay…” is my astonishingly witty response, because I’m too busy watching him walk away from me.

That behind is an argument I do not have a counter to.

“See you at the charity auction, darlin’,” he calls out without looking back at me. “Maybe I’ll bid forty bucks on The Shrew Crew, since it’s for charity and all…”

“You couldn’t afford us!” I reply, sounding 100 percent more flirtatious than I meant to.

“Careful, Red,” he says as he opens the door to his truck. “That almost sounded like an invitation.”

“It definitely sounds like youwantit to be an invitation, Foley” is my comeback, which—shit—sounded like I was flirting again.

I hurry into the lobby so I can’t hear his response if there was one.

Whatever. I wasn’t flirting. He knows I wasn’t flirting. I’ll just give him extra shit on the next episode. I have no doubt he’ll give me plenty of reasons to.

3

ADAM

“Baby, you are notoriously difficult to work with. Temperamental. Prone to self-destruction. But I chose you because I am up to the challenge. I know how to handle you. You and I, we’re gonna make something so fucking beautiful together.”

I’m inspecting this slab of arbutus wood that was just delivered. Born and raised in British Columbia, she is absolutely breathtaking. Her warm, reddish tones are going to be stunning as the pedestal base of a live-edge black-walnut-top round dining table. Those reddish tones. They catch the light, and my mind goes somewhere, to someone I don’t want it to go to right now.

This is a time for peace and focus.

Not horned-up rage.

My client was willing to pay top dollar for an heirloom piece he’s commissioned, and I’m gonna give it to him.

“Ohhhh yeah. What a gorgeous figure. You’re gonna go great with the crotch on my walnut.” I run my hand across the surface of the slab. “Silky smooth. Tight, tight grain… That’s what I’m talking about.”

This is my favorite part of the process. Ever since I was sixteen. When my billet dad brought me into his workshop—this one that I’m renting from him. This has always been my favorite part. Especially in the morning. Inspecting the wood. Yeah. I like the morning wood best.