Page 49 of My Soul for Sale

“You two are so much alike it’s scary.” He laughs as he parks my car in the driveway.

Rip pulls up behind us and we get out.

I hurry on the porch and unlock the door, not wanting to waste any time today. I’ll be slinging drinks again tomorrow night, so I’m trying to get as much done on weekends as possible. Trina is having a fucking heart attack because I’ve taken the last two weekends off, but she can suck a cock.

Rip heads upstairs, calling that he’s gonna start sanding the floors, and Atlas and I head to the kitchen to start pulling cabinets down.

Atlas grabs the crowbar and wedges it behind the lower cabinets, wiggling it to leverage them away from the wall.

The sound of splintering wood echoes through the kitchen, as beads of sweat form on his brow. The cabinet begins to give way, and Atlas' movements become easier. He shifts his weight, muscles flexing, and finally, he wrenches it free from the wall with a groan.

“One down, a shit ton to go,” he chuckles.

The lowers are done in no time, and now it’s time to take the uppers down. He repeats the same process with the crowbar, but they’re being stubborn.

“Fuck, I forgot how good they nailed these with older houses. Your new ones will be screwed, but back in the day, they nailed the shit out of them.”

“Makes sense. Can I help?” I ask.

“Grab me the sledgehammer in the living room, would ya?”

I nod and hurry to the living room, grabbing the large hammer and carrying it back to the kitchen.

Atlas takes it from me with a small smile before lifting it and crashing it against the cabinet. His muscles flex and ripple with every swing and I’m captivated by the sight.

I can't tear my gaze away and my panties are getting wetter as I stand here watching.

“I’m gonna go check on your dad,” I tell him, hurrying out of the kitchen.

With rushed steps, I make my way up the stairs, leaving Atlas and his demolition work behind. But I can't shake the image of his biceps bulging, his shirt riding up to reveal his toned stomach.

The sander is loud as hell as I get to the second floor. I could hear it downstairs, but it was like a dull hum. Up here it’s a full-blown roar, and lord, it’s dusty as hell.

I lean against the doorframe of my soon-to-be room, watching Rip walk the sander from one end to the other in slow, calculated steps.

The cherry color of the floor is replaced with raw wood and I can’t wait to see it with the new stain on it. I stand there watching him, as he’s completely unaware of my presence.

Just as I decide to interrupt and ask if he wants help, the doorbell rings, causing me to scramble downstairs to see who the hell could be at my house.

Opening the door, my skin tingles and I get a heavy feeling in my stomach.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask Jenna, wondering how the fuck she found out my address and what she could possibly want.

“I’m looking for Atlas. We had a fight and I wanna make up with him,” she coos, pushing her cleavage up so more of her tits spill from her tank top.

“How did you get this address and why do you assume Atlas is here?”

She rolls her eyes and curls her lip in annoyance. “I ran into their secretary last night and she informed me that they’d be at an off-site job all week. This address. Then I got here and the van with Duttin Construction gave it away.”

“He’s working. I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.” I go to shut the door, but she slaps her hand against it, stopping it.

“I should have known his attitude, and his radio silence was due to you. You just can’t get it through your thick skull that you’re not good enough for him, can you?”

“Jenna, I have no clue what you’re talking about. We reconnected recently and they’re doing some remodeling for me. Now, can you please leave?” I am not in the mood for this shit.

It’s Sunday. I’m hot, I’m sweaty, and watching these two men work is making me horny as hell.

“I’m talking about Atlas always waiting for you. Never wanting to date because of you. And look at you.” She waves a hand up and down in front of me. “You’re still the same obese bitch you were in high school. So, why? Why is he obsessed with you?”

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