Page 156 of Breaking the Rules

---

I scan them carefully. Add the numbers in my head. Get a rough approximate. "Shit, really?"

"Really…?"

It's more than I expected. A lot more. I pull out my cell, check my math with the calculator, relay the number to Hunter.

He nods. "So the shop?"

I do the math. Show him the results.

He nods.

"How many hours did I work last week?"

I check the time sheet. Reach for something to write with. "This is too much to keep in my head."

"Fair." He grabs the sharpie we keep on the counter. His fingers brush mine as he hands it over.

It's barely a touch, but it still makes my stomach flutter.

He's so close.

And he smells so good.

I barely manage to hold my poker face. "Paper."

He bends, grabs a spare sketchbook from beneath the counter.

I scribble a note about Hunter's hours.

"Let's figure out how much the shop made." He points to the computer. "Assume all the other guys made the same for every hour they worked."

I nod.

"You know the schedule. Do the math."

Okay, that's simple. How much they made per hour, times the shop's commission percentage, times hours worked. But that info is on my account, not his. I motion to the computer. "I need that."

He nods.

His body brushes mine as he steps aside.

Then mine brushes his as I take my place.

There's barely any space here.

But he's still too far away.

My fingers fumble over the keyboard. It's impossible to focus. To do this math.

He's so close.

So there.

So attentive.

Deep breath. Slow exhale.

I run through the calculations twice. "There." I show Hunter the number.

---