“It’s a good thing we’re doing,” he said after a minute.
“How so?”
“Showing guys they can be into tools and like kissing boys. I mean, obviously they can, but it’s good for them to see examples of it, right? I don’t know. Maybe not.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d talked himself around in a circle. It was almost like he wanted to make a point but then thought maybe his point was stupid.
“You’re right. It is good. Especially for boys growing up like you did with guys doing ‘guy’ things and girls doing ‘girl’ things. I hope to hell Stallion has plans to support some lesbian representation too.”
“Well, they do. I asked them about it during one of the calls.”
I sat forward and spun around. “You did?”
Nine blushed. “Yeah, I mean, I said they seemed to be forgetting women and girls in their marketing too, and if they wanted to support some great LGBT content, I did a search and found a really cool lesbian couple in Maine who builds wooden sailboats by hand. They’d be a good vlog to sponsor too. I sent them the link, but I don’t know if they did anything with it.”
I reached up and cupped his hairy cheek. “You’re a magician’s hat, Isaac Winshed. I never know what the rabbit’s going to pull out of you next.”
The grin split his face and made the hummingbird in my stomach beat its wings even faster.
“Good. I like to keep you guessing.”
I leaned in and kissed him, coffee breath and all.
11
Nine
The following week went by quickly. Everything was fine for the most part. We’d started to really figure out what kind of Instagram videos captured the most amount of interest and how to use them to feed our YouTube channel. But it wasn’t all easy.
Not only were we working our asses off… okay, I was working my ass off… but we’d started getting “helpful feedback” from the people at Stallion. They wanted to talk to us about product placement in video clips and photos, how to mention features and benefits of certain tools, and making sure we were using proper safety protocol since we were representing their brand.
Honestly, it had made me second-guess everything I did, and I was so on edge from it, I’d ended up snapping at Cooper several times even though it wasn’t really his fault. That only made me feel like more of an ass which made me quieter. I figured it was better for me to not say anything than to risk snapping at him more.
Things were tense and awkward between us which was the opposite of what I wanted and the opposite of what made for good social media. Even I knew that we’d get more subscribers if we looked like we were having fun than if we looked stilted and weird because we were worried about forgetting to wear goggles when using certain tools.
I wasn’t great in front of crowds of people under the best of circumstances, but at least with my own videos on my own channel, I could pretend I was alone. I could pretend I was making the video for Mrs. Anson, who wanted to build a simple birdhouse, or for Mr. Ridley, who didn’t know how to make the angled legs of a sawhorse. But the thought of other people watching our videos, of corporate executives at Stallion judging us… That was enough to make me freeze the minute I looked into the lens.
Needless to say, I didn’t have much good footage to work with when it was time to put together our first longer-length video.
“Hey, Coop?” I leaned out from the dinette booth and looked back toward the bedroom. We’d eaten dinner a couple of hours ago, and Cooper had gone off to do some kind of yoga routine by himself in the woods. He’d gone straight into the shower when he’d returned, but I’d caught a whiff of his sweaty scent when he moved past me to get there. Now he was supposedly putting on pajamas. I tried not to think about it.
“Yeah?”
He came back into the main part of the RV, pulling a clean T-shirt over his head. I caught a glimpse of his chest and abs which were nice and golden from the afternoons of working outside in nothing but shorts.
I swallowed. “Uh, you wanted me to show you how I got the music for the videos. I’m getting ready to do that part.”
“Cool. I’m going to grab a glass of wine first. Want anything?”
I turned around and watched him as he leaned over to dig through our narrow fridge. He had a really nice butt. “Yeah, uh… do you have any of that strawberry kiwi water from earlier?”
He popped his head up and grinned. “You liked that one?”
I shrugged. “Better than the blueberry one. That one tasted the way pressure-treated lumber smells.”