“Who are you and why are you naked with my nana?” Patty says as she steps forward, grabs Nana by the shoulders and moves Nana behind her.
“I was hired to clean. I’m a Manly Maid,” I explain.
“I hired him,” Nana announces proudly. “You haven’t been on a date since the divorce. You won’t even join one of those app thingies to talk to men. You just sit here and take care of me. I need you to have a life while you’re young.”
Patty still looks horrified. She turns her nana by the shoulders to face her. “So you hired me a man?”
“Just to clean,” Nana explains. “It’s legit I swear. My friend Barb told me about it at canasta last week because her granddaughter hired one. They keep their skivvies on, and you aren’t supposed to touch them. But I figured this way you don’t have to clean today and maybe seeing some hot young thing will get your motor started again.”
“Oh my God.” Patty looks at me and covers her face with her hands. “My motor is fine, Nana. Sir, you don’t have to do this. I am so sorry.”
I am amused by this whole situation so I just grin and shrug. “I’ve been paid up front so let me just clean. If you don’t want to watch, you don’t have to. Go out for coffee or read a book. But at least let me save you scrubbing toilets.”
“That would be nice,” Patty replies and the pink color of her cheeks reminds me of Maggie.
“Well I’m gonna stay and watch,” Nana announces and I chuckle.
“That’s fine too,” I reply and pick up my mop and bucket. “Let me know where you want me to start,” I ask and Nana claps and Patty covers her face again.
* * *
Two and a half hours later I’m parking in front of the hockey house again. It turned into one of the funnest and easiest gigs I’ve had in a long time. Unlike Maggie and her roommates, Patty and Nana kept an immaculate house, so the work part was easy. Nana followed me from room to room fanning herself and making small talk. She was a hoot. Patty hid in the kitchen drinking pot after pot of tea and trying not to die of embarrassment. They were great but traffic was heavier than I anticipated coming back, and I missed my first class of the day. I’m kicking myself as I walk to campus now.
It was Intermediate Accounting for Small Business, and I barely made it through Intro to Accounting last year. Math is not my thing. I can’t be skipping classes. And also…Maggie is in this class. I can’t decide if not seeing her is worse or better than seeing her. I mean, it’s probably for the best because running into her for the first time in a crowded classroom might make it even more awkward. Or maybe it would have made it less? I don’t know.
I decide to hit up the Green Bean for a coffee and something to eat before heading to my next class. I pull open the door and almost trip over my own feet. Maggie is in line. She’s staring at her phone and doesn’t see me. Her hair is down and kind of wavy today. Just like it was when I yanked the elastic out in the barn and buried my fingers in it while I was sliding into her…
I panic. I don’t know why, but I suddenly think seeing her here like this in public is a really bad idea. I turn and almost crash into a dude leaving holding two coffees. My shoe makes a terrible squeaking sound as I come to an abrupt stop.
“Watch it!” The guy barks at me, and it’s loud. Too damn loud. Out of the corner of my eye I see her turn toward him.
And, like her gaze is a magnet pulling me toward it, I turn to look at her as she looks at me. Our eyes lock. She looks really pretty today in a really loose, white cotton dress and dark high top sneakers. The dress is short and her long, pale legs—the ones that wrapped so perfectly around my waist—are on full display.
“Dude, are you coming or going?” the guy says, irritated.
“He’s probably going,” I hear Maggie say. “He’s already come.”
I stare at her trying not to let my jaw hit the floor. She’s smiling—smugly—and then she turns around, eyes on her phone again like she didn’t just hurl the mother of all double entrendres right at me. I step out of the way and even hold the door for Mr. Bitchy Pants before walking over to stand directly beside her.
“There’s a line,” she mutters, her eyes still glued to her phone.
“Yeah, but I’m buying you a coffee,” I say and glance at her screen, which she quickly angles away from me so I can’t see what she’s looking at. “Checking out my hockey profile on the Athletics page?”
“Ha. No,” she says humorlessly. Her eyes shift up and join mine for just the slightest second. They’re a really cool kaleidoscope of hues. Starbursts of amber and light brown with a mossy greenish-gray ring around the outer edge. I’ve never really studied them until now. “Stop staring. Also I don’t need your free drinks.”
I blink. Did I just analyze her eye color? Why did I do that? I can’t even remember the eye color of the last girl I slept with before Maggie and Ilikedher. What the hell am I doing? “Well, it’s not charity. I know you’re allergic to that. It’s a bribe, so you should be fine with it.”
She looks up at me again, frowning a little this time. “A bribe to keep my mouth shut? Don’t worry. I don’t want to remember what we did in that barn let alone share it with anyone.”
Ouch.
Okay so the weird tingle I am still feeling, like residual lust or attraction or something, is definitely one-sided. Got it. I clear my throat. “I need to borrow your notes from class this morning. Accounting. I missed it.”
“I noticed,” Maggie mutters as the server calls out for the next customer, which is us.
I step up but she doesn’t, so I have to reach back and grab her wrist and tug her forward. She glances around like she’s horrified someone might see me touch her and gently pulls her wrist back. “I’ll have a non-fat iced vanilla latte and an everything bagel with cream cheese. And she will have…”
“Coffee. Black,” Maggie spits out at me.
