Page 47 of The Last Time

“Iknow,Mom.I’mnot going to get carried away. I promise,” I tell her over the phone as I hit send on my last work email for the day.

I want to start painting the walls on the first floor today, so I’m clocking out early. I just had to let my boss know. But I have an amazing boss who has been very understanding of my situation since my father passed away.

“I just don’t want you to put too much time and energy into that house. I hate that you got left with the workload in the first place. If you need any money,” she begins, but I stop her.

“No, absolutely not. This isn’t your problem anymore. Plus, I haven’t even spent that much. Layla’s brother has his own contracting company. He’s been a huge help.”

Mom brightens up at the mention of Layla. “Oh, I’m so glad you are back in contact with Layla. You two were so close. Which brother?”

“The oldest, Asher.” Even saying his name has my body getting tingles all over.

I walk over to my paint cans and tools, deciding where I want to start.

“Oh, Asher was always so kind. How is he doing?”

I smile to myself, thinking about all the rude shit he’s said to me since I’ve been back.

“He’s still as kind as ever, Mom. I’m gonna get started painting now. I’ll call you soon. Love you,” I tell her.

Once I’m off the phone, I put it in my pocket. I’m wearing black cotton overalls with a white bralette underneath. I wore them once to paint my place in Cincinnati and ended up getting paint on the legs, making them my official painting overalls.

I pour the cream-colored paint into the tray and grab the stick and roller from the bag. Once the roller is coated in paint, I begin rolling along the walls of the foyer. Knowing I have to paint this entire house from top to bottom makes the task feel a bit daunting.

My arms ache after rolling for thirty minutes from extending so high. But as I cover more surface and see how nice and clean it’s starting to look, I get a bit more motivation. I know the end result will look amazing.

My thoughts continually drift back to Asher. I don’t know what is going on between us. He kissed me on Saturday night, an earth-shattering, life-altering kiss, but I haven’t heard from him since.

He said he’d call me.

I know it’s only Monday, and he has a daughter to take care of. I can’t blame the guy for being busy, but I also can’t help my brain from coming up with all these reasons why he hasn’t called. Maybe he realized he doesn’t like me all that much or doesn’t think I’m worth the effort.

What if he met someone else?

Before I can go down that rabbit hole in my head for the hundredth time, there’s a knock on my front door.

I place the roller in the tray, careful not to splash the paint over the sides, then open the door.

My heart skips a beat. He’s standing there leaning against the frame with one hand, looking like my fantasy come true.

Why does he look so damn good in his work boots, jeans, and white shirt?

A shy smile forms on his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I respond, still surprised he’s here. “What are you doing here?”

He pulls at the back of his neck and then looks at the ground.

“I was just finishing up at a house nearby. I thought maybe I’d stop by and talk about what project you wanted to start next.” He looks me up and down, then peeks behind me. “I see you decided to start painting.”

I don’t think he needed to stop by to ask what project is next. A phone call or text could’ve solved that. But I love that he’s here, for whatever reason.

“Do you always make home visits to ask a client what project is next?” I ask.

I think his shy smile is my new favorite thing. “Sometimes…maybe.”

I giggle as I open the door. “Come on in.”

He starts to look over my work, scanning the walls right here in the foyer, which makes me slightly nervous.

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