“Poor old house. I wouldn’t put Gramps through a full reno, though.” She came back to her desk. “He has a dinner invite tonight, by the way. I’m grabbing pizza from the pub. What do you want on your half?” She picked up the phone.
While they waited for the pizza, they carried up the new drywall, then ate in the break room, enjoying the breeze that came up from the water and through the open window.
They didn’t talk much and got right back to work after. Logan seemed to have taken to heart her ‘are you paying me to talk or work’ remark from last night.
That bothered her. She liked their banter. Back in the day, all the girls had thrown themselves at him, but none had made him laugh as often as she had. That had been her edge—the thing that had made her feel special. The thing that had made her feel seen by him.
Yesterday, that back and forth had started trampling on some very raw nerves, especially when he’d been so shocked by her saying that sex had wrecked her life. She had knocked him back a step out of defensiveness, but did he think she had been referring to him?
Had she?
That brief week with him had been such a complicated time. She rarely tried to untangle it. It was easier to lump it all in as one long bad memory when, in fact, there had been a lot of good ones. His leaving without her had destroyed her, but the sex had been very good. Awkward and silly the first time, but nice. They’d taken a picnic blanket to a spot under a tree. The sounds of nature had been all around them while he showed her how a condom went on. He’d been so slow and thorough with the lube, she’d had a little orgasm and been embarrassed about it.
You’re supposed to come. I was hoping you would. He’d kissed her again while he continued to caress her in that tender, inciting way. When he’d rolled atop her and pressed inside her, it had hardly hurt at all. He hadn’t lasted long enough to make her come again, but the way he’d been shaking as he rasped, Oh fuck, Soph. I can’t wait. Oh fuck. She had liked that a lot, being more than he could handle.
Sex had got better and better in the ensuing days as they got to know each other’s bodies, learning how to draw it out, trying different positions and other salacious things. He had loved going down on her, too. There had been one time—
No. She had to stop thinking about it! She was getting turned on. He would notice. Her cheeks were probably pink and she was damp between her thighs. That would definitely put guilty lust in her face.
“Do you need both hammers?” he asked.
“Nope.” She was on the floor, pulling the baseboards from the supply room side of the new office. She handed him the hammer she was using and crawled to grab the other one, then rolled onto her hip as she turned back to where she’d been.
A sharp jab went straight into her ass cheek.
“Fuck!”
“What?” He turned.
“I’ve been putting these finishing nails into my back pocket.” She got her legs under her and stood.
“Shit. I’ve done that. Are you bleeding?”
“I don’t think so.” She rubbed the spot, dislodging the point that had still been stuck in her butt cheek. “Fuck that hurts.”
“Tetanus shot up to date?”
“Last year. I think it’s bleeding.” She twisted, trying to see if it was staining through the denim. “That’s good, right? Flushes the poison?”
“Let’s have a look.”
“I’m not going to show you my bum, Logan.”
“I’m going to spray it with antiseptic and put a bandage on it. If you think you can do that yourself, at least let me watch because you look like a puppy chasing his tail.”
She quit turning in circles.
“Umi is working from home today. Do you really want to call her in for this?” He went into the bathroom.
She heard him wash his hands before he came out with a first aid kit. It was grubby with age, but she and Randy only used it for exactly this kind of injury, something that could be cleaned and covered in a minute so they could get back to work. Anything more serious had to go through Umi who made note of it in the first aid book.
“Ugh, this is embarrassing.” She turned her back on Logan and unbuckled the clips from her bib, then caught the denim, only letting it fall far enough to reveal that she wore thongs these days.
“Distract yourself by thinking about how much Biyen will enjoy hearing about this. And Trys.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Now you’re just egging me on. It’s a scratch. I’m going to clean it with some rubbing alcohol.” A damp pat of cotton against her cheek arrived with a sharp sting. “Now some ointment.” His fingertip gave two quick dabs. A bandage went over it. “All done. Unless you want me to kiss it better?”