Page 40 of Ten Hammers

I sniffle, and tell myself it’s okay. I may never end up with the kind of love I yearn for with any of them, but they’ll always love me as a best friend. I will never doubt that. And I will not destroy that. Just because 1 Girl, 10 Hammers ended, just because the summer will eventually end, doesn’t mean my friendship with any of the boys will end. I won’t let it.

Maybe the only reason I’ve been unable to envision my happily ever after with anyone other than a Hammer brother is because I thought my boys were a pipedream. Never going to happen, and therefore, safe. Maybe I just need to stay away from romantic relationships, period. I’ve survived almost thirty years of being single. What’s thirty more?

I’m going to need a bigger cottage, though, I warn myself. Because I’m going to seriously need to expand my collection of toys.

Gav watches me warily and I suspect the way my eyes glaze over from my thoughts of new dildos are concerning.

I glance at my phone. My battery charged in the car, but it’s getting low again. “Is there electricity?”

“We called the power company as soon as you said yes,” he confirms. “You want me to…?”

“Yeah,” I whisper and brace myself. A second later, the lights flicker on.

He whistles under his breath. There’s still a litter box in one corner, but from the scent I can suddenly name, the carpet was the preferred place to pee.

“Who would let that man have a cat?” I shake my head and put away my phone.

Gavin sniffs and clearly catches a whiff of the same smell I had. Even his gross-I-smell-piss face is adorable. “I think it was more than one.”

“Damn.”

I glance around the room, finally. Tears flood my eyes as they land on it. The recliner.

What the fuck do you think you’re wearing? You ain’t leavin’ the house in that. My God.

Bile rises in my throat and I cover my mouth.

“I’m here,” Gavin says. “We can leave anytime you want to.”

I take a moment to make sure everything threatening to come up stays down.

“You know how girls wear short skirts and their parents are like, you can’t wear that out, it’s not appropriate, it shows too much and might tempt the boys? Or it’s against the school dress code. Whatever.”

“... I guess?”

I raise my finger and point at the recliner.

“My dad sat right there on the first day of middle school. I got a cute skirt from the mall. Your mom took me to buy it, actually.”

“I don’t remember you ever wearing a skirt, other than your prom dress.”

That dress was floor-length. With sleeves. Gavin went with his girlfriend, the most popular girl in our grade. I went with my lab partner, a guy named Bert who told me, after we got there, he didn’t dance.

“You don’t remember me ever wearing a skirt, because the one I got for the first day of middle school was the last. My dad told me I couldn’t wear it.”

He frowns, genuinely puzzled. “Because it would tempt the boys or was against the dress code?”

I shake my head. I can’t bear to look at him as I say, “Because my thunder thighs would gross people out.”

It’s extra humiliating to say, because, well, my dad probably did save me from a lot of teasing that day.

“If he was still alive I would kill him,” Gav says, matter-of-factly. I look at him again and see the rage etched on his face.

But he’s not going to let it out. He’s going to restrain whatever he’s feeling, keep the anger under the surface and under control, because that’s what I need him to do.

“What a piece of shit. Him, not you. I’m so sorry, Win. I’m sorry he spoke to you that way and I’m sorry your own grandmother let him.”

I don’t tell him that not only did Gram let him, she often laughed.

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