Page 14 of Any Second Now
I scream and my eyes fly open. The sewer hose almost slips through my hands, and when I look up and see the human standing in front of me—an unshowered, twice-divorced single thirty-four year old holding a hose of shit—I wish I could disappear into the forest forever with whatever was making that noise before.
It’s Atticus Knox.
Professional hockey player.
My best friend’s little brother.
Old college crush.
Fucking gorgeous hunk of man.
And last time I saw him on New Year’s Eve, I was letting him stick his tongue down my throat. Encouraging it, even.
Atticus is wearing a Fort Collins Blizzard t-shirt, tight against his shoulders and biceps, and a backwards gray baseball cap that can’t contain the red curls that match my best friend’s, who also happens to be his sister.
“Hey… what are you doing? Are you okay?” He takes a step toward me, that crooked smile on his face that got me to drag him into a dark corner on New Year’s Eve.
“Hello, Atticus. I’m emptying the sewage from my RV.” I try to say it casually, like I’m not probably covered in poop germs. I calmly close the drain valve on the gray tank. I need to disconnect the sewer hose next, but I’m never super confident in doing that final step, and it always smells disgusting no matter how much I let the water rinse the pipe. A vision pops in my head of me unhooking the pipe and it flying around my head like some kind of uncontrollable garden hose flinging sewage juice all over me and Atticus.
“That sounds absolutely disgusting. Do you need help?” Atticus presses his lips together and I just know he’s holding back a laugh.
“You offering?” I narrow my eyes at him, daring him to say yes.
“Um, you look like you have it covered, actually.” There’s anadorable twinkle in his eye and I’m tempted to give him an actual lesson on emptying an RV sewage tank.
“What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?” I have to stop myself from turning my head and sniffing to see just how bad I smell.
“Lucy told me. Asked me to check on you.” Atticus shifts on his feet and slips his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Lucy.” I’m gonna have words with my friend about over sharing my life with her brother.
Atticus chuckles and keeps his eyes trained on me, with a quick glance down at the pipe still in my hands.
There’s no avoiding it now, so I reach over and unhook the sewage pipe, then carefully coil it into the bucket at my feet. I breathe out in relief.
Then the smell hits me, and a second later, Atticus.
“Nasty.” He scrunches his nose and steps back.
“Can I help you, Atticus?” I cross my arms and try so very hard to look intimidating, but the fact that he’s a solid foot taller than me makes that really hard, plus the poop pipe coiled at my feet.
“I wanted to say hi and check if you needed anything.” Atticus shifts and drags a foot along the gravel-covered road, making a crunching sound.
“Well. Hi. I don’t need anything, and I’ve gotta move the Pink Palace back to my spot.” I nod my chin vaguely away from where we’re standing.
“Sorry, the what?”
Shit. I’m so used to calling her by name, and RV people always do that, so sometimes I forget that it’s kinda weird.
“The Pink Palace. My RV.” I stand up straighter and tilt my head, but feel my entire face and neck warming.
“Ah. Okay. That’s a… strong name.” He raises his eyebrows. “Where are you set up?”
I point across the campsite to a shady spot next to the lake.
“Nice.” He nods.
It is a nice spot, actually, I’m looking forward to that view in the morning.
