Everything goes still. All of it, every unspoken emotion, every ounce of hurt and anger tangled between us, just hangs there.
He shakes his head, like he can’t believe I said that. “Of course I do, Kiki. I’d never want you hurt.”
“Then stop yelling at me and let me get back to work.” There’s no anger in my voice now, just resignation. A knowing that my heart is going to ache forever from losing him, and that distance is probably the only way I’m going to maintain any kind of composure.
“No can do,” he replies firmly. “Come down off the ladder.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off. “I will help you, but I need you on the ground first.” Eddie motions to Mike. “Give me a hand setting up the scaffold.”
A few minutes later, they’ve set it up. Damn them for making it looksoeasy.
I hold out my tools, assuming they’ll take over where I left off, my half-inch of completed work, but Eddie shakes his head and crooks a finger at me.
“This is your baby, Kiki. We’re doing ittogether.”
Great. Now I get to hang out for the next hour with a man who hates me.
Today just keeps getting better and better.
I eye the scaffold with a mix of contempt and fear. “Is that thing going to hold me?”
“It holds men way bigger than you.” Eddie’s gaze drifts slowly up my form. “This is quite a change from your usual attire.”
Oh, we’re goingtherenow.
I cross my arms, my foot tapping out a rapid beat against the floor. “I wear a business suit and you tell me I look ridiculous. Now I’m dressed like every guy on your crew, yet I still look ridiculous. I can’t win with you.”
I don’t bother waiting for his response. Instead, I grab the ladder. “I’ve got it,” I snap when he moves to steady it, my boots clunking against each rung as I climb.
I step onto the scaffold and balance myself, determined to get this done without suffering yet another mini mental breakdown.
A second later, Eddie joins me on the scaffold, but he doesn’t reach for the tools hanging around his waist. Instead, he scrubs his face with his hands. “You don’t look ridiculous.”
I refuse to look at him.
“To be honest, I always preferred you like this,” he adds. “Sweats, jeans, no makeup. I liked you best that way.”
I snort under my breath. “That’s quite a change, considering you don’t like me at all now.”
His hand smacks the wall with a sharp crack. “Hey, I’m not the bad guy here. You remember that, right?”
I go still, zeroing in on a small hole in the plaster, picking at it with my finger so I don’t have to look at him. “I know,” I mumble. “I know this is allon me.”
Silence settles between us, thick and noxious, as the seconds tick by.
Eddie exhales and tips his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “You know what? There’s no point. Let’s just forget it.”
I say nothing.
“We can’t keep doing this to each other,” he continues. “Turning the job site into a war zone. You don’t need me snapping at you every moment, and I don’t need to be carrying this anger around when we’re stuck working side by side for God knows how long. Probably forever, if Nolan has his way, since we’re so”—he makes air quotes—“magical together.”
He’s trying to lighten the mood, but his peace offering catches on the shards of my broken heart.
Typical Eddie, smoothing over pieces he didn’t break.
I rest my palm against the wall, against the wound I’ve made bigger with my finger, noting the resemblance between it and my disaster of a life. “I think Nolan is right. We were magic.”
Damn it. Why did I just say that?
