“Something like that. Bigger issues like HVAC or roof leaks I evaluate and contract out. I check security, help move-ins, change locks when people move out, submit reports … that sort of thing.”
“You catch short girls falling from counters.”
His mouth twitches before spreading into an impish smile. “Yeah, that’s ‘other duties as assigned.’”
“Are you working now?”
“Are you planning to fall out of the car?”
“Not unless you start driving like Sam.”
He laughs at the mention of our friend’s driving skills. Sam’s the best, but he’s the baby of our makeshift family and still a little wild. He lives in the dorms but can usually be found at DC and Jace’s townhouse when they’re playing music, or with Annie and me when he wants food.
Sam’s steering wheel drum solos are cute until a turn is out of rhythm and he hits a curb.
So. Many. Curbs.
More often than not, he screeches into our parking lot on two wheels and a prayer.
“I promise I won’t drive like Sam. But I always have my phone. I’m always on call.”
“You have a grown-up degree and a grown-up job, yet you still find time to help me with math … and sometimes drive me to work, because Idon’thave a grown-up job that would pay for a grown-up car. You do not have time for my shenanigans, DC.”
“You’re doing what you need to do, and I spend my time exactly how I want.” He glances at me and winks. “My job’s flexible. Maybe I like your shenanigans.”
“Well, good. Maybe you should be in charge of my life. Trusting you is easy, and it takes all the pressure off me.” I let my head fall back, and words spill out the way they always do when I’m completely exhausted.
He nods slowly without expression while still staring straight ahead. “Yep, you take care of everyone else, and I got you.”
Oh.
That made my eyes feel funny.
“I know you do. I don’t know when you sleep.”
“I’m not great at it.” He tilts his head and gives me puppy eyes. “Maybe you should help me out again.”
Again. Real smooth.
He just loves to bring up …ugh. It was nothing. Let’s change this subject, shall we?
“Hey, aren’t you about to have a birthday? You’re twenty-five, right?” I hate that I don’t remember the exact date, but I know it’s close.
He scrunches his nose with the cutest grimace, and I can’t hold back my smile.
“Twenty-six.” He glances at the clock, which reads 12:52a.m. “For about four more hours.”
My eyes widen with the realization of his words. “So technically today?”
“Yeah, but nothing can top last year. I got the cutest smart-mouthed punk.”
Oh,okay, I see how this is going.
“I am the gift that keeps on giving, still a hot mess a year later. Heavy on the mess,” I joke.
He glances my way with a grin. “Heavy on thehot.”
Aww. Well, isn’t he just full of it tonight? I’m going to ignorethatcomment as well.
