“Well that’s…kind of you,” she says.

“It’s not a problem. And please, put me down for an invitation to your charity event. Werlin Venture is always looking for more charitable avenues to support.”

Jane’s eyebrows rise into her hairline. “Your father’s company?”

I nod. “He’s still the owner, but I am the CEO.”

She goes still in surprise, and I take in her reaction. It’s common for people like Jane to be shocked at the fact that a twenty-six-year-old runs a company. Especially her, given her feelings towards me and my gender. “I hadn’t heard that. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I say. “I’m very curious about the charity and would love to come.”

She nods. “I’ll make sure you’re on the list.”

“Thanks. Have a good day!” I jog back toward my car as she watches. She hasn’t smiled once through the course of the conversation, but she looks less like she absolutely loathes me now. And that’s a good thing. There’s a little bounce in my step that stays with me as I hop into my car and as I make my way through the hardware store and grab everything I need. Plaster and spackle and a piece of drywall.

I won’t lie that a little bit of my excitement comes from the fact that I saw Jane leaving. Hopefully that means I’ll get some alone time with Julia. I’m not sure what Jane’s hang-ups are. But navigating them isn’t going to be easy.

When I pull back into my own driveway, I see her. Her dark hair is wild around her head and she’s leaning sleepily against the window. But when she sees me, her whole face lights up and she places her hand against the window. I wave, and the feeling I have when her smile hits me is crazy. It’s like I’ve consumed a ball of light and am carrying it around in my chest.

I lift the bag of supplies and nod toward her door. My phone chirps in my pocket.

Give me thirty minutes to get pretty.

I type back.

You’re already beautiful.

She’s blushing so hard that I can see it from here.

Fine. Ten minutes.

I’m counting.

I sit down on her porch steps and check my emails. Nothing urgent from Patrick. Just some updates for starting the work week tomorrow. I’ve barely thought about work this weekend thanks to Julia, which isn’t usually the case. But taking off Friday afternoon was the best decision I could have made.

At ten minutes like clockwork, the door opens behind me. Julia is leaning against the door frame in jeans that look like they’re painted on her and a shirt that’s just short enough to see a strip of skin, and my eyes are glued to it. I want to feel how soft her skin is and watch the goosebumps form as I taste it.

“Hi,” she says, voice still thick and rich with sleep.

“Morning. Ready to fix your ceiling?”

Julia smirks. “Sure.”

I grab the bag of supplies and my toolbox and I come inside the entryway. In the chaos of last night, I hadn’t noticed what Julia mentioned: that the house is in disarray from being entirely re-organized. But I see it now. Papers stacked in haphazard piles on some tables, boxes full of things to be sorted. And now with a hole in the ceiling, I understand why she was so panicked. But since I stopped the pipe leaking water, it looks like the plaster has dried pretty well.

This won’t take very long.

Time to get to work. “I saw your mother this morning as I was heading out to the hardware store. I think I made her not hate me.”

Julia drops her face into her hands. “I’m so sorry about that. I can’t make an excuse for it.”

“You don’t have to. She’s putting me on the list for this party.”

“Really?” She sits on the floor nearby and watches me as I open the plaster and work on measuring the dimensions of the hole.

I nod. “Really. I didn’t lie, I’m always looking for more charities to give to. It’s a good opportunity for me to do something local. What’s it for?”

“Underprivileged kids. But she wants to give teachers the resources to help those kids at school. Since that’s the place where they spend a lot of their time.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Yeah,” she says. “It is.”

I work on fitting the drywall into the hole and securing it. “Then why don’t you sound excited?”

“No, I am. I promise.”

Stepping off the ladder, I look at her. “Really?”

“Really.” I stare at her until she melts, relenting. “It’s a good idea, and I’m glad I get to help her with it, I’m just not sure if this is what I want to be doing. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing or what I want. That’s why I’m here now.”

“What happened at school?” It feels a little strange asking that. We’re only a few years apart in age.

Tags: Penny Wylder Erotic
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