Some of it was inevitable—the kind of stuff you can’t know until you’re deep in the trenches on a project—but there are a couple mistakes the architect made that are really going to cost us.
Fuck, this certainly isn’t how I wanted to wrap up my Friday.
“The roofline is going to be pitched a little differently in this gable,” Matt answers, pointing down at the blueprints on the makeshift table in front of us. “And the architect didn’t leave enough head height for the stairs here. So, since we’ll never get them in the way it is, we’re going to have to reframe and change the pitch.”
“That’s going to change the elevation of the house,” I comment, and he nods, already well aware of this factor. “Dammit.” I groan and run a frustrated hand through my hair. “Tell me it’s not going to look like shit.”
“It’s not going to look like shit,” Matt assures, qualifying, “It could. But Johnny and I will make sure it doesn’t.”
On a sigh, I give him my approval. “All right, man. I trust you. Do what you have to do to make it right.”
Matt disappears with the blueprints, already jumping back to work, and the sounds of crunching gravel urge my eyes over to the spot where everyone parks their vehicles.
Instantly, I spot a familiar truck pulling to a stop beside mine.
I make my way over just as my buddy Garrett hops out of the driver’s seat and waits for my arrival with a smile. His beard has clearly been shaved off since I saw him last week, but stubble is making a solid comeback.
“Where were you the other night?” Garrett asks, popping a peanut into his mouth and leaning against the hood of my F-350, a formal greeting of any kind apparently too difficult. “I called the house, but Chloe said you were out. I pushed, but no details. Very cryptic bullshit, if you ask me.”
An exasperated chuckle leaves my lungs. “What? No hello?”
He holds out his free hand in front of himself. “You see me, don’t you? That was my hello.”
I shake my head and grab a peanut from his plastic jar. I have a pretty good idea the night in question is Tuesday, the night I had to suffer through dinner with an Instagram-loving woman named Bianca. But still, since I’m really not ready to get into any of this Bachelor Anonymous shit with him yet, I take the chance that I might be able to deflect him.
“What night?” I feign confusion. “I’ve been home all week. She probably just didn’t feel like yapping with you.”
“Yeah, whatever, dude.” He narrows his eyes. “It was Tuesday. And I know for a fact that you were out. Truthfully, Chloe sounded pretty fucking giddy about whatever it was that you were doing.”
I lean into the bumper, sliding my sunglasses out of my shirt and slipping them on. I need them to block out the sun, but mostly, I need them to block out Garrett’s stare. The two of us have known each other way too long. I don’t need him reading me like a goddamn open book.
I sigh, cross my arms over my chest, and admit, “I was on a date, okay?”
“Wait, what?” Garrett nearly shouts. “Like, with an actual woman?”
“No, with a hologram,” I retort, rolling my eyes and groaning. “Yes, a woman. You’d think you’d be less excitable with all the action you see as a fireman.”
He ignores my deflection and carries on like I didn’t even speak.
“Was this like a fuck-and-run kind of thing, or are you trying to get serious with someone?”
I snort at his terminology. He really has a way with words. “Somewhere in between. I don’t plan on there being a second date.”
“Bummer.”
“I’m happy,” I argue. “I don’t really need someone, man.”
“Oh, trust me, I know you have that whole independent vibe down pat,” he interjects. “But even you can’t deny the fact that you’re even going on dates in the first place is saying something must have changed…” He pauses, waiting for my response to his assumption.
A correct assumption, but whatever.
“Chloe…feels like I need to find someone.”
“Okay, but let’s be real. As much as you love that girl, you’re not going to go on dates just for her benefit. Something has you flipped, too.” He stares at me like he’s trying to reach inside my brain and find out all my secrets. “I just don’t know what it is yet.”
Instantly, Holley’s face flashes in my mind, but we haven’t talked since we texted on Wednesday.
Yeah, and it’s bugging you a little that you don’t know what she’s been up to…
I’m sure she’s busy. We both are.
But I won’t dispute that it’ll be good to see her tomorrow.
“Nothing has changed,” I respond. “I’m just going on a few dates, starting with date number two tomorrow, to show Chloe that I’m trying. But that’s it, man. I doubt I’ll end up anything but single when it’s over.”