Page 35 of Love Me Reckless

I try to hold in my grimace, but Kirilee glances my way, frowning. “What?”

“I, um, don’t ski.”

“Oh.” She turns left again. “But you’re from Alaska, right? Doesn’t everyone ski up there?”

“Not everyone.”

“Forgive me,” she says, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. Sofie doesn’t ski. Come to think of it, I don’t think Zach does, either.”

“Yeah, it’s not a big thing where we’re from.”

Kirilee nods. “If you want to learn, I can teach you.”

I scoff, and she arches her eyebrows. “Are you doubting my abilities?”

“Not at all.” More like doubting my ability to resist her. “I… don’t want the guys to find out.”

Realization dawns on her face. “Oh. Yes, I see.”

She parks in front of an avocado-green single-story home with an attached garage that I’m guessing has more square footage than the house. Because it’s a former preschool, there’s a parking area in the back. The realtor’s white SUV is parked in front and the lights are still on inside the house.

“Yay, she’s still here.” Kirilee jumps out.

Inside the house, it smells like old newspapers and the floor creaks. The realtor’s eyes go electric when she sees Kirilee, hurrying over from where she’d been perched at a card table spread with flyers, glossy business cards, and an iPad.

“So nice to see you again,” the woman says, her brisk footsteps nearly silent on the faded carpet. “Hello,” she says to me, extending her manicured hand.

“This is my friend Sawyer,” Kirilee says.

As she shakes my hand, the wordfriendrattles around in my mind. I’m honored she thinks of me that way… but it kind of stings too. Because I’ve crossed that line a hundred times in my head since that night in the hot tub.

“Let me walk you around,” the woman says with a pleasant smile. While she rattles off the house’s traits and perks, I tune her out and make my own quiet assessment. The floors, walls, windows. It’s easy to see this as a preschool. There are two main rooms, a kitchen, a smaller room I’m betting was an office, and two bathrooms. One looks newer, like it was added to accommodate the higher occupancy once it became a preschool.

The garage is newer and spacious, with big windows down one side, but it’s just a box, no insulation. The plumbing will need a major upgrade before it can be a pottery studio, and if she plans on mixing chemicals for the glazing, I will insist on a safety hood forfumes. If she’s going to be firing pottery, that might be an issue with the outdated electrical. Not a deal breaker, but I would want her to get a real electrician out here. I pull out the flyer the woman gave me at the start of the tour.

No fucking way is this house worth what they’re asking. Did she make up a special flyer for Kirilee, knowing money is no object? I fold the flyer and stuff it back in my pants pocket.

“Thank you,” Kirilee says to the realtor.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you have any questions.”

I give her a nod of thanks, then follow Kirilee out the door. Once we’re in her car, she’s practically bouncing up and down. “What do you think?”

“I think it has major potential.” I glance at the house, and through the window, the realtor is packing up her things into a briefcase. “The plumbing won’t be too hard as long as the system is solid. You’ll want to check for any history of pipe issues or backups, ‘cause that would be a disaster, and really expensive to fix. The wiring is old and outdated. You will need a pro because that shit is complex and the last thing you want is some student getting zapped by just turning on a light switch, or throwing the circuit for the neighborhood every time you run the kiln. Then there’s the flooring. I think you should get someone under the house, to check the foundation. Or maybe that’ll come out in the inspection.”

Kirilee rubs her palms up and down the steering wheel, her face tense. “Those are all really good points. You think I shouldn’t buy it?”

I shake my head. “Not necessarily. What else is on the market?”

She gazes out the window, her face thoughtful. “Not a lot. This is the best location, and the roof has been approved for solar panels, which is important to Birch. The parking is a big plus. And I love the garage space. It’s perfect for ceramics.”

The mention of douche date and solar panels throws me for a moment. Why does he get a say in her project?

I lean back into the seat and give the house a long glance. “So, what you’re saying is it’s the one you want?”

Her green eyes turn troubled. “It could be. If I hold out for something else, it might take too long.”

This sounds ominous, as if she’s taking our previous conversation literally. Like if she can’t get it done before her wedding then it won’t happen at all. “Then offer her about a third less than what’s on that flyer.”

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