Page 1 of His Handyman Skills

Chapter One

Shayla

I was so excited to move out of the dorms when I started my sophomore year. I imagined freedom and a taste of being an adult, which I guess I’m getting. But my roommate is a nightmare. She stays up all hours of the night and rarely, if ever, cleans up after herself. I do feel more like an adult, but not one with freedom. I’m constantly cleaning up after her and asking her to be quiet so I can get some sleep. I didn’t realize that leaving the dorms would mean that I was going to be someone’s mother.

Still, I’ve been trying not to let her snobbishness get to me. We’re both only nineteen, after all. Everyone adjusts to being an adult on their own time. Just because I’ve been cleaning up after myself since I was a child doesn’t mean she has.

After the day I’ve had, I’m looking forward to getting home. I cleaned the kitchen before I left, and I’ve been thinking about making a one pot pasta dish I saw on my Instagram feed. Despite how tired I am from my intense course load, I might even offer a plate to my roommate.

All of those thoughts fly out of the door when I walk into the apartment. Music is blaring from her room, and the kitchen is trashed. Apparently, my blessing of a roommate decided that I cleaned for her. Rage courses through me, and if I wasn’t so exhausted, I’d march into her room and demand she come out here and clean this mess up.

Defeated, I drop my backpack to the floor and leave. My friend Nicole is working at Lucky’s, the off-campus favorite bar and grill, tonight. As much as I want to be in my bed and locked away from the world for the night, I need to eat. I’ll be able to chat with her and eat a meal that I don’t have to cook or clean to make.

I consider driving myself, but the walk isn’t too long and the weather’s nice. It’s a crisp, brisk fall day, probably one of the last in the season. It does wonders in clearing my mind, and by the time I walk through the double doors of the full restaurant, I’m more excited about having dinner than frustrated with my roommate. I can focus on that when I have a full stomach.

“Shayla!” my friend Nicole says from her host stand. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be here tonight,” I admit, glancing at the groups of people milling around. “Think you have room for one?”

“Technically I have room for two,” she laughs as she taps at the touch screen in front of her. “Daisy coming?”

“God no,” I say, not bothering to hide my disgust. “Judging by the mess in the kitchen, she’s already had dinner.”

“Is she still not cleaning up after herself?” Nicole says, grabbing a menu and a set of silverware from beneath her stand.

“Of course she isn’t,” I groan, acknowledging her boyfriend, Dom, who also works here, as he walks up to the stand.

“Disgusting,” she says, passing the things in her hand to Dom. “Take her to table fifty-two.”

“You can’t do it?” he snarks, earning himself a smirk from my best friend.

“You still suck at the computer,” she replies before turning her attention back to me. “Tell me all about your horrible roommate later tonight?”

“Gladly,” I say before following Dom though the store.

“Julie will be over soon,” he says when we stop at a tiny booth that’s only big enough for two people.

“Thanks, Dom,” I say, sliding into the seat and opening the menu.

Just like he said, Julie arrives at my table a few seconds later to grab my drink order. I ask for a glass of water before scanning through the appetizers. Maybe I’ll go all out and get myself a three-course meal. I think I deserve it after the day that I’ve had.

I’m bouncing back and forth between the mozzarella sticks and artichoke dip when Nicole walks up to my table with a sheepish expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, unsure of why she might look so guilty.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she assures me. “I was just wondering if you’d be open to a dinner guest. He’s one of our regulars and really nice. You can say no if you’re not comfortable with it, and I wouldn’t ask if we weren’t so busy.”

My first instinct is to say no. I’m not a particularly outgoing person, and usually the idea of spending an extended period of time with a stranger gives me anxiety. Something tells me to say yes, though.

“Sure,” I say after a long pause. “I haven’t even gotten my drink yet, so the timing is perfect.”

A wave of relief washes over Nicole’s face at my response. “You’re the best. I’ll bring him over.”

She disappears for about twenty seconds. Then, when she comes back, there’s a tall, muscular man that must be around thirty following behind her chattering away. His short black hair is peppered with strands of gray. When his warm, brown eyes lock with my own blue eyes, it feels like the world stops.

“Leo, this is my best friend, Shayla,” Nicole says, placing his silverware on the table. “Be nice to her. She’s had a hard day.”

“I’m always nice,” he says as he settles in across from me. “Thanks for letting me join you, Shayla.”

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