Best Served Cold

I nodded.

“Do you want to crush Chase?”

I wasn’t entirely against it… “I want people to know I’m better than him.”

“Then listen to me. I’m making you an account.” With a flourish, she said, “Ta-da! You’re officially on the ‘Gram!”

“What do I do with it?”

She pressed her hand against her face. “It’s a good thing I have the afternoon off. Come on. We’re going to the store to get some paint, then I’m gonna teach you how to use this thing.”

Oh, goodie.

CHAPTER FIVE – RAELYNN

By the time lunchtime rolled around the following day, I’d cleared out all the old furniture in the store—including the rickety old stools I had hated—and I’d taken them to the junkyard to get rid of them.

The store felt empty, but after I’d been to buy paint with Sophie, I’d thought about my conversation with Chase.

He’d been right when he’d said I hadn’t even started.

It’d do me no good to have all the amazing light fixtures and tables if the walls still looked like the paper on them was older than me.

Armed with a steamer that Grandpa insisted would get the paper off and a trash bag, I stood in the middle of the room and looked at the paper. It was peeling in places, and the bright-blue color it’d once been had faded more than I’d thought before.

The paper by the windows was lighter where the sun had hit it directly. The shape of jars and canisters were still perfectly bright where they’d sat on the shelf, and the sun hadn’t been able to get through them.

It wouldn’t be out of place in an antique manor house or something.

The problem was, I had no idea how to use this steamer. I’d rented it from a company in town, but my bravado had gotten the best of me, and I’d said I’d used one before.

The biggest machine I’d ever operated that wasn’t a car was a vacuum cleaner.

How long did it even take to remove wallpaper?

The guy at the store had said the steamer was ready to go, so I pressed the On button and grabbed the flat plate I assumed went on the wall.

Steam was coming out of it, and I kind of waved it in front of the wall. The steam was going on the paper, and that was how it worked, right?

I put it down and grabbed the scraper. The paper didn’t budge.

Nope.

That wasn’t how it worked.

A light chuckle came from the doorway, and I readied myself before I turned around.

“That’s not how it works.” Chase’s lips tugged to the side.

“Really?” I drawled. “I couldn’t figure that out.”

He laughed again. “Try holding it right against the wall.”

I picked the steamer back up. It looked too hot to do that, but clearly, my way hadn’t worked, so…

I pressed the hot plate against the wall.

“Make sure you move it.”

“What?” I turned, pulling it from the wall.

“It’s like a straightening iron. You’ll burn the wall if you keep it in one place.”

“Oh. Like…Side to side?”

“Want me to show you?”

Yes.

No.

Maybe.

“Don’t you have to work?”

He shook his head. “Marnie’s in there. She helps me out on weekends and school breaks now.”

Right. His sister. She was eighteen now. That made sense.

I looked at the old paper and back at him. “Sure.”

He stopped as if I’d just thrown a curveball at him.

I guess I had.

“Are you gonna stare at me like I’ve grown another head or what?”

He snapped out of it. “I must be in the twilight zone. Either that or you got abducted.”

I clicked my tongue.

Chase took the steamer from me and turned to the wall. “See how the bit you did is peeling?”

I nodded as his blue-green eyes met mine for a hot second—a stupid, hot second that sent a buzz down my spine.

“That’s what you want. You probably only just saved the plaster by pulling it off. A straightening iron is the best way to explain it to you.” He paused. “You know how you do one bit of hair three or four times, but you move the iron really fast?”

“Yeah. You used to ask me why I didn’t just hold it there until it was straight,” I muttered dryly.

“And you told me it was because you’d burn your hair off. Then showed me a video of someone doing it with a curling iron.” His lips were pulling up at the edges.

I remembered it.

And it took everything not to smile back—he’d looked absolutely horrified as the girl in the video had lost a huge chunk of her hair and was basically bald in that spot.

“Right. I remember.” I met his eyes, and it was a mistake.

His smile reached his eyes, and there was something in his gaze that made me swallow. It was warm and familiar and made my heart clench.

I looked away then up at the wall. “So it’s like that? Move it over several times?”