I didn’t know how I felt about that.
It was awkward enough as it was without everyone sticking their noses in.
I sighed.
I needed to get out. Maybe an impromptu visit to see Grandma was what I needed. The ducks and chickens would distract me for long enough that I could forget about the clusterfuck my life was turning out to be.
I would walk. It would do me some good to get outside in the sun, and it really wasn’t that far from my apartment.
I topped up Gen’s water bowl. She gave me a cursory look from her sunny nap spot on the windowsill—she’d knocked my spider plant off so she could have its place—and promptly went back to sleep.
I still said goodbye to her and told her I’d see her later.
It was such a nice day, and my walk to the senior home didn’t take half as long as I needed it to. And that wasn’t just because I’d eaten an entire packet of cookies today. It was because I genuinely needed some time alone, but the home crept up on me a little too fast.
I pressed the buzzer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Tori. I’m here to see Grandma.”
There was a light buzz and then, “It’s open!”
I pulled the door toward me and let myself in. I was hoping it would be cooler inside but I was sorely mistaken. It was just as warm, if not warmer, than outside. A fact that was pushed home by Oscar wiping his brow with a damp cloth behind the reception.
“What is going on in here?”
“The air conditioning broke,” he said in a low voice, ditching the cloth for wet wipes. He glanced around and quickly went to use them under his arms. “Sorry. It’s too hot.”
“No kidding. Can’t it be fixed?” I grabbed the neckline of my tank top and flapped it. I could already feel the boob sweat starting to come to life, and the last thing a girl needed was boob sweat.
“We’re waiting for the engineer now. They were supposed to be painting for their art class, but it’s cooler outside so we put the farm animals away and put up the gazebos for them.”
“Ooh, you let them paint? After last time? Isn’t that a bit risky?”
“We have to vary their activities,” he said warily. “I don’t really want a repeat of the serial killer rabbit either, but here we are.”
“Do you monitor their TV by any chance?”
“You’d think not, but we do. Can you sign your name there?”
“Sure can.” I took the pen he offered me. “There. Can I do anything? I’d get you some ice but I walked here.”
“No, no, it’s fine. We have a couple of portable units for emergencies like this. Colton and Leonard are setting them up now.”
I froze. “Colton? He’s here?”
“Yep.” Oscar didn’t bat an eyelid. “Got off work early and came to see Randy. They’re in the living room and should be about done now.”
“Do you mind if I go through to outside?”
“All done.”
I turned to see Leonard approaching the reception desk with Colton just a step behind him. I met his eyes for a second before I dropped my gaze and played with the hem of my shirt.
“Those units are heavier than I remember. Thank God for this strapping young man.” He clapped Colton on the back. “Give it twenty minutes and the living room will be done. Any news on the engineer?”
Oscar shook his head. “It’s a waiting game, I’m afraid. I’m going to see if anyone else is available since this is an emergency. This building hoards heat like nobody’s business, and we can’t leave you all hot overnight.”
“Let me call a friend and see if he knows anyone. Do you mind?” Leonard motioned to the office, and Oscar shook his head and took him through.
Leaving me alone with Colton.
It’d been four days since we’d spoken. Since my disaster date. Since me and London had left Bronco’s as soon as we could when Seb had told us they were all there.
“Hey,” he said in a low voice.
“Um, hey.” I scratched behind my ear, looking everywhere but at him. “How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Good. You?” I paused, glancing up. “Ignore that. Sorry.”
His lips tugged up. “I’m glad.”
“Yeah.” I wrung my hands together. “I should go out there. See Grandma.”
“Of course.” He took a step back out of my way. “Those paintings are wild.”
“I’m sure.” I bit the inside of my lip and turned away, determined to escape this.
He looked good.
Too good.
His dark hair was just the right amount of messy and speckled with dust. There was a smear mark across his cheek that could have been anything from coal to mug, and his dirty shorts and stained t-shirt told me he’d just come from work.
Dirty shorts.
Stained t-shirt.
Muddy face.
I loved it when he looked like that.
“Can we talk?”
I stopped and looked over my shoulder.