Page 49 of Blue Collar Hotties

“Um.” My brain is sluggish. Overwhelmed by the bright lights and loud noises and press of the crowd, but most of all by the man sitting opposite me. “I went to a famous fabric store onthe coast last year. They have all these unique designs and their own factory, and some of their stuff is handmade too but it’s super expensive…”

I trail off, heart sinking.

It’s no Sahara, that’s for sure.

But: “Go on,” Lincoln urges, leaning closer. The picnic bench creaks under his weight, and no, I willnotthink about how his muscled bulk would feel pressing down on top of me. Definitely not. “Tell me about it, sweetheart.”

That’s the other thing.Sweetheart.Lincoln probably calls loads of girls that, probably doesn’t mean anything by it at all, but my heart flutters like crazy every time he says it to me.

“I took the train,” I say weakly. “And I stayed in a haunted motel.”

Lincoln grins. “On purpose?”

“No.” His dark chuckle vibrates all the way down to my bones. I squeeze the edge of the picnic table, cheeks aching from smiling so much. “As if.”

That trip was such a big deal to me at the time. It’sstillsuch a big deal. I saved up for months so I could go, and even then I had to really force myself onto the train. My heart raced so fast, and my palms were all sweaty, and I thought for sure I was gonna be sick.

I did it, though. I went.

Just like I spent the whole day out today.

“Thank you,” I blurt, gazing into warm gray eyes. They crinkle as Lincoln smiles at me. “Thank you so much for this. For bringing me with you today. It means everything to me.”

There’s a pause before my roommate answers, and in that time, it’s like the air changes between us. Becomes charged, crackling with electricity.

The wind feels warmer. Lincoln’s still staring, pinning me with his eyes, doing that frowny-smile thing.

His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip before he speaks. “You’re welcome, Jenny. You know I’d do anything for you.”

Whew. I swipe his half drunk beer bottle and take a long swig, too frazzled to meet his eyes anymore, and Lincoln laughs so loud that people glance over. The bottle thunks against the picnic table, foam fizzing up the inside of the glass.

“You can finish that.”

I shake my head, staring blindly at the nearest ride. My thoughts are already muddled enough.

“Okay.” Lincoln raps on the cracked wood. “Home?”

Home.

Yeah.

The thing is… I’m already home whenever I’m around him.

Lincoln

I’ve seen famous acrobats and death-defying stunts. Visited ancient temples and bustling city states. But I now know, from first hand experience, that the greatest wonder of the world is the sight of little Jenny finding her courage.

My shy roommate is indomitable. Every day for the last three days, she’s rushed to finish her sewing work early, then set out on some kind of personal quest.

On Monday, she went on a solo trip to the sprawling indoor market, always packed with bodies, the walls rattling with the roar of the crowd, and she came back with triumph sparking in her eyes and a paper bag of warm oatmeal raisin cookies in her satchel.

On Tuesday, she asked me to go with her to an unofficial racing track on the outskirts of the city. You better believe I dropped everything, shocked that she’d even heard of the site, and we watched dirt bikes roaring around dusty circuits for two hours while sharing a carton of buttered popcorn. I even got some good shots for the city series, not that I needed more.

On Wednesday, Jenny headed out for an afternoon jog, and she didn’t even pace up and down in front of the door, giving herself her usual pep talk before she went. She just marched to the door, and left.

Sure, she came back red faced and grumpy twenty minutes later, muttering about how jogging is the worst, but shewent.Even though she hated it, I’m so fucking proud of her.

But every time my roommate pushes herself a little harder, gains an ounce more courage, I get this weird ache in my chest. Because she’s doing so well, and that makes me want to punch the air, but this tiny, selfish voice in the back of my mind keeps asking: what can I offer her now?

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