Page 44 of Drilled

Having the guys here felt so natural at this point that they might as well have been part of the furniture. Even if not everyone was super happy about the arrangement. Sandy, true to his nature of being a grumpy old bastard, had already yelled his displeasure from the second floor and continued his stellar communication through a series of angry thumps on the ceiling-floor above. Silas was especially prone to eliciting these responses whenever he tried to, very discretely, knock something into place.

I could practically sense the old man’s seething from here.

But in a not too shocking turn of events, Bear was in the best mood I’d seen him in in a while. Instead of returning Sandy’s ire with his own, he simply revisited the blueprints on his tablet, then set Dax and Silas up with quieter tasks.

Awfully accommodating. Awfully generous.

I noticed Dax’s suspicious side-eye as Bear smiled his way through measuring some framing joints. Silas just looked confused, even a bit worried but all I could do was try and hide my own amused smile.

As I sipped on my second cup of coffee for the day, I briefly reflected on the most recent tally. I’d actually crossed the line with both Dax and Bear. The old Lane would’ve freaked out, immediately firing them to hire a replacement crew of octogenarians. Come to think of it, the old Lane wouldn't have let her guard down enough to get into this position in the first place.

But that was the whole point.

I held onto Nancy’s words like a lifeline. She knew me better than anyone else, and I trusted her judgement. If there was one person in the world who had the guts and vocabulary to tell me that I fucked up straight to my face, it was her.

And all she’d done was encourage me to be a bit more creative in my endeavors. My smile widened as I thought about what she might have to say about my truck stunt with Bear. But just as quickly as the thought arrived, it was eclipsed by the bigger issue I’d been avoiding.

My mother.

When did thinking about the men in my life become my chosen source of distraction?

The guys were going to be busy for most of the day, with Silas hand-sanding the timber trim pieces and dry-fitting the vanity drawers while Dax was tasked with stripping wires and fishing conduit through the exposed wall studs. And Bear, of course, was overseeing everything on top of his own tasks.

I didn’t want to get in their way, regardless of how tempted I was to ask them for advice or comfort about today. Now, that was something completely new to me. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually even have the courage to vocalize it. But it was an uncomfortably unfamiliar feeling, that draw I was fighting to invite one of them inside my head and see if they could sort through the mess as easily as they worked through the demolition rubble.

I was being ridiculous.

I downed the rest of my coffee and left my perch on the kitchen counter to get ready for the day. My feet dragged along the lower-level hallway, my mind seizing on any physical distraction to delay the inevitable meeting.

I found myself focusing on the raw, open ribcage of the half-demolished bathroom wall, tracking the sharp silver glint of Dax’s newly run copper wiring. My eyes lingered on a pair of discarded historic subflooring planks, their ancient water stains mirroring the internal mess muddying my mind.

Huh, look at you. Knowing all this construction vernacular and shit, I thought to myself, feeling kind of proud of myself for retaining all the information Silas had shared with me over the last month.

In the chaotic sanctuary of my bedroom, I threw open the closet doors and tried to fish around for an outfit to wear. Suddenly, my wardrobe felt way too sparse of options. This skirt was too short, those pants too informal, that blouse way too fancy. I couldn’t figure out what to wear to a simple coffee meeting, and that would’ve been a ridiculous realization if the person I was meeting wasn’t my mother.

“Hey, Lane?”

I spun around. Silas was poking his head through the crack of the door. He gave me an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry to bug you. Do you have a minute?” he asked.

“Sure, Sy. As long as you don’t mind me throwing together something to wear while you talk. What’s up?” I asked, going back to rummaging around for the impossible. I heard him come inside and then stop. When I turned around again, he looked kind of uncomfortable, not sure what to do with himself in the privacy of my room.

I nodded to the bed. “You can sit if you like.”

“Thanks.” He took a seat, and it was a little funny to see his massive 6’4” frame on my bed. “I just wanted to come in and check on you. You seemed a little off lately. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help.”

My heart constricted. I was reminded yet again of how deeply nurturing Silas was. He offered his presence like a shield, demanding absolutely nothing in return simply because it was his nature. Just because he cared.

There was a vague flash of guilt that I tried to suppress. Nance was right, Silas and I had never actually started dating or even done anything to hint at the possibility besides just the time we’d spent together. That didn’t mean that I was ignorant to my own growing feelings towards him.

I finally settled on an ankle-length wool overcoat in camel, paired with a black cashmere turtleneck sweater and high-waisted charcoal trousers. I’d go with my pointed-toe leather boots to round it out. I didn’t care anymore what she’d think of the outfit, though I could imagine what she’d say.

I was about to ask Sy to leave when I discovered that I didn’t necessarily want him to. There wasn’t that discomfort I might’ve expected at the thought of sharing the same space as him while undressing. And I figured, what the hell. I was already in the business of making spontaneous decisions before my default mindset could kick in.

“I have to change,” I said, my voice tempered. “You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

Sy’s eyes widened slightly, and I saw him swallow. But he just nodded, then closed his eyes and turned his head away for good measure. I felt a jolt of electricity snap over my skin like static while I took my clothes off and slipped into the new outfit. My pulse hitched.