Page 30 of Faker
He removes his hard hat, placing it on my head. “To satisfy the safety police over there.”
Tate stares daggers at the two of us while leaning on the ladder.
Jamie beams at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or text while I was gone. Doing a week of off-the-grid camping and hiking in the Rockies was a blast, but there was no cell service.”
“No worries at all. You’re here now.”
Jamie brushes my ponytail over my shoulder, and I let out a soft chuckle. Weirdly, Tate hasn’t moved since Jamie arrived. It occurs to me I’m flanked on either side by two very handsome, very strapping men. For a fleeting moment, I can’t remember which one I like more. There’s something hypnotic about Tate’s milky glow, how it highlights his cut musculature. I can’t seem to shake it. Then Jamie smiles at me, and heat creeps up my face. Oh, that’s right. I like him too.
“You look lovely, by the way.” Jamie takes a step closer.
I’m blushing hard core now. Jamie’s killer charm has me feeling fab.
Tate scoffs loud enough to scare a nearby bird into flying away, then walks off. Jamie frowns, tipping his head in Tate’s direction, then shrugs at me.
“I have no idea what his problem is,” I whisper.
From the nearby worksite, a low voice hollers for Jamie.
“I should say hi to the guys, but you up for lunch later?”
My insides mush together. “Absolutely.”
I try for a sweet smile. He returns a sly one before jogging away.
Scooting the ladder over, I climb back up to take a few more aerial photos, but the sun glare makes it tough to get a clear shot. Even though I’m only about ten feet from the ground, my hands start to shake. No more height-related activities after today. I step down and hear a softly muttered curse float up from below.
Tate scowls up at me. “You really need to be more careful. There’s gravel all over the concrete around here. The ladder isn’t steady.”
Faint concern rings at the end of his words, almost like he cares. It softens my resolve, but just barely.
Stomping down the ladder, I yank it out of his grip and drag it to the other end of the house. The harsh sound garners confused stares from surrounding volunteers, but I don’t care. If the only time Tate cares to talk to me is to lecture me about what a construction noob I am, I don’t want to speak to him at all.
“I’m just trying to look out for you, okay?” he calls after me.
I roll my eyes in an attempt to mask my embarrassment.
At this opposite corner of the home’s exterior, the sun is behind me, meaning I can get a much clearer photo. I set up the ladder and make the wobbly climb once more, nerves shooting through my stomach. I should have made sure the ladder was on sturdy ground before I scaled it. I can’t ask Tate to run over and hold it steady, not after rejecting his help. I’d look like a fool.
With shaky hands, I adjust my hard hat, take a bunch of quick photos, then scale back down.
“Emmie, wait! It’s not steady—”
The whine of metal scraping against concrete shrieks against my ear. Then I hit the ground.
nine
When I open my eyes, I’m lying facedown on the concrete. Slowly, I lift my hand up and touch my cheek. Bits of gravel dot the side of my face. My limbs are numb, but then the fiery burn sets in and radiates through my body. It’s not just my right side anymore; I’m aching everywhere now.
I try to push myself up, but I don’t get more than an inch off the ground before I fall back down. My head is spinning, and white dots cloud my vision. A meek, pitiful yelp leaves my mouth. Firm hands on my back and shoulder gently haul me up to stand.
“Are you all right?” Tate asks.
I try to push him away, but he holds me tightly. I give up and lean into him. My head is as unsteady as a spinning top toy.
“Hey, answer me.” His voice is urgent, but not unkind.
“Obviously not. I just ate concrete.”
