Page 125 of Debugging Love

I glance over at the bookshelves. They still need clearing. Drop cloths need to be laid, the shelves need to be pulled to the center of the room, and then we need to tape off the wall. I don’t think we’re going to get it all done today. I wonder if she’ll invite me back tomorrow?

She stands and places her binder on top of a pile of books. We silently get back to work talking only when we need to iron out logistics. An hour and a half later, we’ve primed both bookshelves. As they dry, we work on the wall. Danni pours Perfect Pink into two paint trays. She starts at one end of the wall, and I start at the other.

Painting with a roller isn’t difficult, but it does require some technique. Don’t grab too much paint, start in the middle, make “W” motions, watch out for paint runs. Danni dips her roller intothe paint, doesn’t roll off the excess, starts at the top, and I can’t tell from here, but I suspect she has paint runs.

I tighten my jaw and try to focus on my side.

“Oops,” Danni says.

I look over and she has pink streaks on her sweat pants.

“I think you’re grabbing too much paint.” I set down my roller and walk over.

“You’re about to tell me all the things I’m doing wrong, aren’t you?”

“No, I was just going to give you a little training lesson.”

“That involves telling me everything I’m doing wrong.”

I back off a little. “Am I that bad?”

She crosses her arms and lets her paint roller flop, which makes me want to tell her to hold it more carefully or she’s going to get paint all over herself. But I don’t.

“What do I need to improve?”

Well, since she asked. “You have too much paint on your roller and it’s causing the paint to go on unevenly. See that dribble?” I point to one of many.

“I wasn’t done yet.”

“Here.” I hold out my hand. She jabs the roller at me, and then flips the handle around. I kneel. “Okay, watch.” I dip the roller into the paint and roll it along the pan several times, then I place the handle back in her hand with mine wrapped around hers. I ease her to the wall and guide her roller through a few “W’s” but I lose interest as the scent of her shampoo overtakes me.

I step closer until my chest touches her back, her silky hair inches from my face, my heart thumping so hard I know she can feel it. I run my free hand down her hair before pushing it aside to reveal her neck.

The roller hangs limply at our sides, drops to the floor as I lightly kiss her skin and breathe her in. She turns around, searches my face with her eyes. When she finally presses herlips to mine, my mind whirls with every touch and taste, the sensations stopping time. I’m left with her, like it will always be this way, Danni and I connected and sinking into each other.

She weakens in my arms. I adjust my stance to catch her, but she falls and catches herself with the wall, her back against the wet Perfect Pink.

“Oh no,” I say.

She looks drunk and giddy. “Aren’t natural hair brushes the best?”

“Not when it’s your hair.”

She picks herself up and I assess the damage. It’s not too bad, a little paint in her hair, a lot on her shirt.

“You better shower quick. The paint is water soluble as long as you don’t let it dry.”

“Do I still owe you for this lesson, or are you going to give me a refund?”

“I’ll take your payment now,” I murmur before stealing another long, slow kiss. Afterward, she looks up at me with her big brown eyes. “Go shower,” I whisper.

I watch her leave, and then I get back to work, buzzing with excitement while I coat the wall in Perfect Hello Kitty Pink.

Chapter 27

Danni

On Monday, I wake up at five till eight, put on my unicorn slippers, make some hot tea, and slide into my “office,” which is a chair at my dining room table, and log into my Wi-Fi. I tested my VPN at work on Friday. It connected perfectly, no hiccups. So, of course, it throws an error today.

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