It can’t be.
But still, when my eyes go back to Sloan’s, they’re locked to my left side. When the touch on my shoulder goes away, she turns back to her task, continuing to install the new heater, her concentration evident as she meticulously connects wires and secures components in place.
The sun begins to break through the clouds, casting a warm glow inside the van through the windows and the open door.
I watch her in admiration, no longer able to contain my appreciation. “You’re amazing, you know that? You should open your own shop here. People would love that.”
She smiles, but it’s a tired smile as she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, pushing away beads of sweat. She looks even better like that, the sheen of exertion on her skinmaking her glow. Sloan takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with effort. “Are you in cahoots with Tally?”
“Not lately,” I tell her, enjoying how it makes her smile. “But I will back her up one hundred percent if it helps anything.”
“Yeah, sure, why don’t you two put in together and buy me a shop for my birthday,” she sarcastically mutters while pulling out a burned cable with force.
Huh, why the hell not?
“When is your birthday?” I ask, frustrated that I don’t even know basic details about the girl who holds my heart.
She turns and points a wrench at me. “It was a joke.”
“I got that, but I don’t know when your birthday is, and that’s sad. It could be today, and I would just sit here like a dumbass.”
“At least you brought me presents.” She shrugs, and my blood freezes.
“You’re messing with me.”
She laughs, and my heart starts to beat again. “Yes, it’s February first.”
“Wait—” I start, perplexed.
“Yes, like North,” she says, exasperated.
How would she know that?Did they talk about it?
I’ll have to ask North.
“When’s yours,” she inquires, turning away again to work as if she’s not interested in the answer.
“October twenty—” I start.
Before it even leaves my mouth completely, she looks to my left in shock and blurts out, “That’s Monday!”
“Yes, I—” I turn to my left again and frown, now a little more than sure that someone who at least knows me is here with us. “Wait, is there—” I start, but she cuts me off again.
“Almost there,” she splutters, turning to the heater again.
Okaaay.
After a few more moments filled with silence and the clinking of the wrench, she announces, “Finished,” before muttering, “Let’s hope I still have it,” and pushes the heater’sonbutton.
It starts up, almost silently, but there is a quiet hum, and she holds her hand out to the vents, her face scrunched in concentration. When the first warm air blows out, she jumps to her feet and makes a fist bump in the air. “I still have it!”
I chuckle when she holds out her hand to me for a high five, looking like a little dork, but I oblige. Then she holds her hand out to my left, too, leaving me dumbfounded.
I look at her with wide eyes, and she cackles like the little witch she is, lowering her hand.
She’s fucking with me, isn’t she?
She wants to see how I react when she acts… different.
