Page 19 of Show Me

He moves in to look at the cut. Close enough that I’m aware of him again but not touching this time.

Not like before. Which is good. Better. Safer. But sadly, disappointing.

He presses along the edge. “That’s clean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I ignore the skipping of my heartbeat. His praise shouldn’t impact me the way it does, so I tamp down the rush of warmth that tries to steal across my cheeks and block everything else out.

We fall into a rhythm after that. Small adjustments. Short instructions. Passing tools back and forth without looking at each other. Like we’ve done this before. Like this is easy.

Except it’s not. Because every time I step a little too close, I feel it…. That pull. That almost. And then I remember the way he stepped back. Fast. Like he was afraid I’d make it into something it wasn’t supposed to be.

So I don’t step close again.

He crosses his arms over his broad chest and surveys my progress. “You’re getting it.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“You kind of are.”

“I’m adjusting expectations.”

I huff a breath. “That’s incredibly rude.”

“It’s accurate.”

There it is. Or normal brand of barbed back-and-forth insults. Familiar. Safe.

I grab the tape measure while biting back a laugh. After pulling it out, I catch the end against the edge of the frame. “Okay, so if I take this section out, just this part, I won’t screw anything up?”

“Not if you stop where I told you to stop.”

“Which I will.”

The corner of his lip tips upward like he’s fighting back a grin. “You won’t.”

“I will.”

He already knows the answer. Unfortunately, so do I.

The silence that follows isn’t awkward. Just… less charged. Or maybe I’m just pretending it is.

His phone buzzes on the counter. Neither of us move. He doesn’t move right away. Just looks at the screen for a second longer than necessary. Neither of us move. It vibrates again.

I look back at the wall before I can read into it. Don’t.

He picks up the phone and swipes the screen. After he reads the message, he sets it back down without saying anything. Of course he doesn’t. It’s not any of my business.

A second later, it buzzes again. This time he exhales, low, under his breath. “I’ve gotta go.”

Just like that.

I nod, already stepping back, putting space where it belongs. “Yeah. Of course.”