Page 47 of Forget Me Not

“Or naked.”

“Yes, I think being naked would entail feeling both safe and vulnerable,” I grumble and dive into my cinnamon roll for a hearty bite. I’m so done discussing this. I hate being psychoanalyzed all the time. After the accident, I experienced a constant stream of ‘are you sure you’re okays’ and ‘what’s really going ons’, followed up with an endless supply of options for me to choose from when it came to my own emotions. I could take it from Gun, for no better reason than that I had to. I was stuck with him. We were in every mess together, so this post accident trauma was no different. But Cammie, God love her, the advice she doles out may come from her heart, but it’s never once come from experience.

She shrugs, refusing to commit to this down and out and extremely severe stubborn moment of pouting I’m engaging in. “Or, maybe getting naked is the key to feeling safe and vulnerable. Maybe, having a little faith, and baring yourself – literally, will break down any fears you’re allowing to create distance between you and your happy ever after.”

“Can you eat your goddamn cinnamon bun already? Give your mouth something else to chew on for a while.”

She laughs. “God, woman, you do need to get laid.”

“I got laid yesterday. That’s hardly the problem.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I wish I had more cinnamon roll left to shove them back in with.

“Wait. What?” Cammie looks confused. She would. I just spent the last twenty minutes explaining to her that I haven’t had sex with Reed yet.

“With Gun,” I state the obvious, eyes bulging out of their sockets, “right before Reed showed up.”

“Oh.” She grimaces. “Ew.”

“Ew? Whyew?”

“Just, you know...two guys in one day.”

I shake my head, unable to process this new twist. “Are you kidding? Ididn’tsleep with two guys in one day! That’s how this whole stupid conversation started!”

“But imagine if you would have.” She finally takes a bite. “Ew,” she adds one more time, mouth full and grossed out syllable completely muffled.

Chapter Twelve

Gun

7Years Earlier

“We’re here,” Kevin, my boss, announces gruffly prompting me to look up from the paper I was reading on the drive over here. I like newspapers. Learned to read thanks to the Sunday Funnies once upon a time. Could have been one of those nerdy book people if I’d had the chance, based on the way I’ve devoured any and all papers and magazines I’ve collected from recycling bins over the years. It’s nice reading something current for a change. Kevin caught me reading a week-old edition left behind on a doorstep on a job a while back. Never said much about it, but I’ve found a current paper on the passenger seat of his truck every morning when I get in ever since. It’s weird, having a dude like Kev look out for me. He’s old enough to be my dad, but treats me like an equal. Even when he’s teaching me, he never talks down to me, not just that, he expects me to get it, expects me to do well. Outside of Cooper, no one’s ever thought I was capable of anything outside of fucking up. Well, and Mister B. I owe him huge for this.

I fold the paper up and slide it between the seat and the middle console where it won’t get ripped or crinkled. I still have two more sections to peruse at lunch.

“Holy shit, this place is huge.” And old. Probably a hundred years or more. The roof doesn’t look much younger.

“It is,” Kev agrees, opening his door and sliding out until his boots hit the ground. “And it’s pro-bono. So we really need to keep our work tight and on schedule.”

Kevin’s big on giving back. Not just by taking on screw ups like me to be an apprentice over the summer, but also by fixing up and replacing roofs for families who otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford it. And it’s not just about keeping them dry and warm when weather rolls through, bad roof means losing your homeowner’s insurance as well and that can unleash a whole new can of worms when your house is still under mortgage. All shit Kev’s been teaching me since I started working with him.

“What’s the story?” I eye the house. Once upon a time it was really impressive. “Single Mom? Health crisis? Death in the family?”

“Nope. This one’s just for you. Foster family.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.” He laughs. “I’m gonna get you set up and then you’re taking the job on your own. Your give back for working with me.” Every guy he interns gets one. Usually a job that stays with them, makes them remember where they started. Why it’s important to pay it forward to keep from going back.

“I’ll do it up right, Kev. You’ll see, you won’t be disappointed,” I promise.

Kevin nods, and I know he’s confident I’ll keep my word.

Then, the front door opens. A man steps outside to greet us. And every thought or effort I ever wasted on the future disappears completely.

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Reed

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