I tighten one more bolt after my pep talk. The shelf leans farther left, as if mocking me. My pride wavers.
“Maybe calling him isn’t weakness; maybe it’s… delegation. Efficient delegation.”
I type again. Delete again. Pace the living room like I’m negotiating a hostage situation.
I sigh. “You can do this, Hailey.” The shelf creaks and I glance over at it. It’s basically the Leaning Tower of Pisa by now. “…or you could die doing this.”
I glance at my phone one more time. My thumb hovers over Cole’s name again. Just his name makes my stomach flip stupidly. He’s Maddie’s big brother, my one Denver contact, the man who can probably assemble an entire house blindfolded.
Five minutes later, I’m on my knees with a hammer I have no business using. My thumbnail that is slowly turning purple is enough proof. My coffee’s gone cold. My knee, elbow, and somehow my chin are bruised, and the screw I dropped has vanished into another dimension.
“I give up.”
I flop onto my back in the middle of the rug, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere in this building, someone is cooking bacon. My stomach growls, and the sound echoes in the empty space. For the first time since Maddie left, the silence feels heavy. Too heavy. I close my eyes and whisper to the ceiling, “Maybe just one little text wouldn’t kill me.”
I sit up, groaning, grab my phone, and before I can overthink it again, my thumbs start moving.
Me: Hey there, it’s Hailey. I may have just angered a bookshelf and was wondering if you had any free time this week to help me assemble a few things?
I hit send before I can chicken out, then immediately throw the phone face down on the couch like it’s a bomb. My heart thuds against my ribs as if I’ve just confessed a crime.
“Okay,” I whisper, pacing. “It’s fine. He’ll laugh. Or ignore me. Or think I’m a helpless idiot. Totally fine.”
The phone buzzes once from the couch. I freeze, then run over and swipe the message open.
Cole:You hurt?
Me:Just my pride. The rest is all superficial.
The typing bubble appears, disappears, then reappears, a message populating a second later.
Cole: Sit tight. I’ll be there soon.
My jaw drops. “Wait, what? No, that’s not—” I type frantically.
Me: You don’t have to right this minute. I just meant if you had some free time this week.
He responds so quick I’m confident he had the response ready to go, knowing I’d say that.
Cole:Already in the truck.
I stare at the screen, pulse skittering.
“Oh my God, he’s coming here right now.” I look around at the disaster zone. My coffee table is in pieces, cardboard guts everywhere, one shoe on the counter, the matching one on the other side of the room, and I swear under my breath. “He’s going to think I live like this.”
I scramble to shove packing paper into one corner, sweep screws into a cereal bowl, and toss the shoes into my bedroom. I glance into the bathroom next, making sure I didn’t leave mypanties from yesterday on the floor. Thankfully, I put them in the hamper. Before I exit, I look toward the mirror, my reflection looking back at me. My cheeks are flushed, my hair a wild mess that resembles roadkill piled on top of my head, and my eyes scream absolute panic.
“Pull it together, Hailey. He was here helping you move in; he knows this isn’t normal.” I glance down at the oversized, stained shirt that does nothing to hide my braless nipples. “Shit!” I run back into my bedroom, throwing on an oversized hoodie that goes halfway down my thighs, hiding my shorts and making me look pantsless. Just as I finish pulling on a pair of fuzzy socks and before I can change into pants, my intercom buzzes.
The intercom buzzes again, sharp and demanding. I practically trip over my rug on the way to the wall.
“Hailey?” His voice crackles through the speaker.
I press the button. “Hey—hi! Yep, that’s me. Come on up.” I release the button and frown at it. “Why did I sound so weird?” My heart is thudding against my chest like a full percussion line when the knock comes, even though I’m expecting it. I open the door with a smile that’s aiming for casual.
“Hey.” He’s standing there, running a hand through his rumpled hair that was clearly under the beanie that’s in his other hand.
“Hey,” he says, the slightest hint of a smile ghosting his lips.
