Page 4 of Come in with the Rain
CHAPTER5
ADAM
Adam, man, what are you doing?
I stare down at the forms in front of me.Application for Home Improvement Commission Original License.I’ve had the damn thing printed and sitting on my table for a week, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to fill it out. It feels like a pipe dream. Without a client base, it’ll take years after starting my own business before I’m making as much as I’m making at Cylburn Repair, and I can’t afford to be without that income.
I toss the application aside and get up from the table, going to the fridge and grabbing a beer. I lean my head back against the closed fridge and close my eyes only for them to pop open again. Ever since the incident yesterday morning, every time I close my eyes, all I see isher.
Which is absolutely preposterous. I’m not this guy. I’m not the kind of guy who sees a woman mostly naked once and then harbors a crush for the rest of his fucking life. But, well, I was already halfway to a crush before I even walked into Kline’s place yesterday, and then seeing her in all her absolutely gorgeous glory just made the whole thing worse.
But Shawn is right. I can’t be going anywhere near her. I can’t have a reputation for developing crushes on clients. How the hell would I ever be able to start a business if I was known as some creep?
Do I evenwantto start a business? Who the hell knows.
I reach into my pocket for my phone and open Google. I know I shouldn’t. It’s just going to get me in trouble. But I can’t help myself. I’m like an addict who needs a fix.
I typeStella Hartinto the search engine and watch as pictures of her take over my screen. It’s not like she’s a movie star or anything, but she’s been seen on Mickey’s arm enough that she’s famous, even if it’s just on the East Coast. Everyone here knows Mickey, so everyone here knows his girlfriend.
There are pictures of them together, and there are pictures of her alone, some of them I recognize from social media and others were clearly taken by strangers, out in the wild. Pictures of her with shopping bags in her hands or sitting at a coffee shop or putting gas in her car.
And what’s creepier, the people who took the photos or the guy standing alone in his kitchen, looking at them?
I turn my screen off and let out a long sigh. It’s a dumb crush. I don’t even know anything about her other than how beautiful she is, and that she has a great laugh, and that she’s kind enough not to tell her soul-destroying boyfriend that I was seemingly spying on her yesterday. At least, she probably hasn’t told him. Yet.
I glance over at the forms on my table. Maybe I just need to get out of there.
CHAPTER6
STELLA
“You’re up.” Mickey comes in from the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips, hair dripping onto his muscular shoulders. I know he works out. There’s a corner of his office downstairs that’s all cardio machines and free weights, but I’ve never actually witnessed it. I imagine that’s what he does on his lunch breaks when he stays down there instead of coming up to the second floor. His muscle tone is subtle, cut lightly behind his tan skin, and I can’t take my eyes off the hard abdominal muscle around his belly button.
“Yeah,” I say, watching him from the bed as he steps into the massive closet and disappears. I swear, there’s a doorway to Narnia in there somewhere. I see the contractors step up to our front door on the camera monitors on the TV, lunch boxes and coffee thermoses in their hands. Most of their supplies gets left here every night, pressed subtly into corners and covered with tarps. I watch as they all crowd in around the door while the guy in charge rings the doorbell. It sounds throughout the condo, but I don’t move and Mickey keeps dressing in the closet.
In the back corner of the screen, Adam appears, his head bowed and his hands behind his back as he leans against the hallway wall. He hunches his massive shoulders, and I see in my mind again the shape of him in the crack in the door, looking in at me. It couldn’t have been more than three seconds, but it feels like the moment stretched out into hours.
All the other contractors are looking at the door, waiting for Mickey or me to open it, but after a beat passes, Adam’s head comes up. He looks at the door, and then, like he knows I’m watching, he looks straight at the camera.
I fumble for the remote and turn the TV off, all the little screens going black.
“I should go let them in,” Mickey sighs, coming out of the closet, dressed for the day. He rolls the sleeves up on his shirt as he walks toward the bedroom door, but once he has it open, he stops. I think maybe he’s forgotten something, but with one hand still on the doorknob, he looks at me over his shoulder. “Are you happy with everything, Stella?”
I just blink at him. What does that question even mean? Does he mean am I happyhere,with him? That can’t be what he meant because him asking me that question means opening a book that would be better left closed. No, he must mean, am I happy with the work that’s being done?
“Of course,” I say, putting on a bright smile. “I can’t wait to see everything when it’s all finished.”
His eyes scan my face from across the room, trying to read me the way he reads his computer and his calculations and his machines.
I look away, reach for my phone on the nightstand. “The tile you chose for the bathroom is flawless,” I say.
I know he’ll like the compliment to his taste. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him smile. “I thought you might like that. Adds a little something.”
I pull the blanket up higher, until it’s tucked under my chin. “I like it. Almost makes me want to start using that bathroom.”
He raps his fingers on the door. “Use whatever bathroom you like, Stella.”
The comment makes sadness build up at the back of my throat, and I can’t even say why. Mickey walks out of the room and closes the door behind himself.
