The Best Friend Zone

“Are you going to do anything more inside the barn?” she asks, her eyes big.

“More? Like what?” I haven’t done anything to the barn except clean it out for storing supplies, which are almost depleted. It has new siding and a new roof—both upgrades I paid for. Those jobs were too big to handle alone.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Extra space to store stuff?”

“Hadn’t planned on it. Why?”

“Well, um, I was thinking…”

She glances around, and her eyes land on the beams overhead.

“Thinking what?” I ask.

“Sooo, I know I’ll only be here a few more weeks tops, but if you aren’t using the barn for anything special…I was wondering if maybe I could?”

“For the goats?” I ask. “Sure, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’d save you a trip to Dean’s place between jobs.”

I smile at the thought of her beasts roaming around here. Gramps never had a lot of livestock the older he got. He’d pulled the stable walls out years ago to make more room to store the old antique junk he collected.

The corral’s still in good shape. I’d fixed it up and painted it a month ago, just in case whoever I sold it to might have animals. For the goats, I’d have to fence in an area with more grass for them, which wouldn’t be that much work.

“No, the goats will be at the dairy farm for at least that long.” She grimaces slightly. “I want the space for me.”

“You?” I blink in confusion. “Don’t like your room? Wish you’d told me, peach. It must suck awful bad if you’d rather sleep in the hay.”

“No, no!” She swings her arms with a loud belly laugh. “I love the room, but with Granny gone, I’m not getting enough exercise. With bike riding gone, I need more strength exercises, room to do workouts. I can’t run for long stretches. That’s too rough on my knee, and walking isn’t strenuous enough.” She points up. “The beams in here, though…they’d be perfect for aerial silks.”

“What the hell’s an aerial silk?”

She flashes her perfect teeth and continues to roll paint on a door. “You’ve probably seen them. They’re these long silk ropes that people climb, great for aerobics. I can show you on my phone.”

A heinous vision of Tory climbing colorful hangers without a stitch of clothing on streaks through my head.

Goddamn. Not what I need to think about.

I clear my throat.

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about. I’ve seen them. You know how to do that?”

“I’ve done it for years! My friend, Miriam, got me into it. Her dad owns a huge gym downtown and they were offering classes. It’s great for overall body strengthening.”

The excitement in her voice makes me grin, despite the fury in my cock.

“Sure, we could figure something out, but where would you get the supplies? Dallas ain’t Chicago, darlin’.”

“Everything’s online, Quinn. Remember that Big A you invested in? Probably wouldn’t cost a ton to have it shipped here.” She stands back and examines the door on the sawhorse in front of her, then runs the roller over the edge. “Oh, and I’d need to put up a couple big mirrors, too.”

I examine my door, and satisfied with the work, walk over and set down my roller in the tray we’ve been sharing.

“Mirrors, huh?”

“Right.” She sets her roller next to mine. “People always think the mirrors in dance studios are because dancers are vain, but that’s not it. They’re an important training tool. They give you instant feedback, show you the height and shape of your movements, your body and line position.” She shrugs. “You can’t fix what you don’t know is wrong.”

There’s nothing wrong with her body whatsoever, but what the hell do I know about ballet?

“We could hang up some mirrors, no problem. But what about the floor? It’s pretty old and scuffed up. Won’t be much good if you get tripped or step on a sliver.”

“It’s fine!” She rubs the floor with the sole of her sandal. “A good sweeping and mopping, and it’ll be perfect. I’ve had to practice in worse places.”

I’m not so sure, but I could rent the industrial sander I’d used in the house again.

“What about under those silks? Don’t you need a mat or something? Padding in case you fall.” I’m not convinced I love the idea of her climbing silks, whether or not it makes me hard enough to pound nails.

I’ve seen it on TV and the shit looks dangerous, the higher it goes. More bad news for her knee if she slips again—or worse.

“You worry too much.” Tory laughs, her mind made up. “I won’t fall. I’ve done this for years, and it’s exactly what I need right now to get back in shape.”

“You ain’t out of shape, woman.” The words burst out before I can stop them. “If anybody’s telling you that, give me their name and I’ll set ’em straight.”