Page 50 of Overachiever
“That man loves me,” Colin quips as we start toward the ladder.
“He’s fighting back tears he’ll miss us so much,” I agree.
The rest of the volunteers and all of the company employees are gathered behind the house. A long table has been set up, and a huge cake takes up half of it. “Just a little goodbye celebration for the volunteers,” Meyer announces. “I hope everyone has learned a thing or two.”
I can’t help myself. “I learned Trevor doesn’t wipe because touching a man’s ass is gay.”
Trevor flips me off over the laughter, and Meyer shakes his head, taking the top off of the cake box.
I’m not the only one distracted today. The whole volunteer crew has been all over the place, goofing off, laughing, and talking with everyone. I’m sure the company will be glad to see the end of us. Even Trevor has been in a good mood instead of his usual obnoxious tough guy act.
In retrospect, I should’ve known there was a reason. After the cake has been demolished, it’s clear work is over for the day. Everyone stands around talking, and I text Graham to come pick me up since I lent him my truck for the day.
Colin pokes me when we see Trevor and Meyer walk over to the front loader tractor parked on the edge of the lot. After some gesturing, Meyer jumps and grabs the edge of the raised bucket, then does a few pull ups. Not to be outdone, Trevor copies him. After Trevor drops back to the ground, he glances back and sees us laughing at them.
“What are you staring at? You couldn’t do even one with your weak ass little arms,” he taunts.
I should’ve ignored him. I’m not one to be baited into things, but when Colin looks at me and shrugs, we both head over to prove him wrong.
“Side by side,” I mumble as we approach.
He grins at me. “Try to keep up.”
If I’d taken one second to look back, I would’ve seen the phones pointed toward us, and realized this was a set-up, no doubt in retaliation for tricking him into grabbing a dirty dildo. But no. Colin and I walk under the bucket, stand beside one another, look up and get a face full—hell, a body full—of cold, muddy water.
Laughter roars around us while we both spit and sputter, and I wipe my eyes to see Meyer grinning at us from behind the controls. The bucket that had held gallons of nasty water is hanging above us, the last few drips raining down.
Colin’s hair is pasted to his head. Random leaves and guck cling to him. One look at each other, and we both join the laughter. Trevor stands nearby, holding his stomach, braying like a donkey.
“It’s so nice of you to give us such a send off!” I announce, starting toward him. “Give me a hug!” Trevor backs away, then starts running when I speed up. “Come back and let me love you!”
It’s probably a good thing a branch jumped in my way, and I didn’t catch him because he might’ve punched me, but the ground isn’t much more forgiving when I crash into it. The cacophony around me sounds like an asylum until one voice pierces through. “Owen?”
“Graham, hey.” I stare up at him from my place on the ground, covered in mud and soaking wet, with a scratch up my arm from the branch. “Just finishing up work. They couldn’t do without me, you know?”
“Clearly.”
The ride back to the motel isn’t fun. Riding in the truck bed seemed like the best idea to keep from getting grunge on my seat, but damn, the metal is hot. I feel like a jumping bean trying not to touch the surfaces until we pull into the lot where I can hop out.
We have the room for one more night, but I’m eager to get home so we plan to nap then leave in the middle of the night. Most of my things are already packed, and Graham packs up his stuff while I shower, change, and hope I don’t end up with some fungal infection from whatever was in that water. Last thing I want to do is show up to Remee’s looking like I have radiation poisoning.
After a few hours of sleep, we stop for a late dinner, then I take the first shift driving. The plan is to drive straight through and be home by tomorrow evening. Graham and I have had fun—as much fun as I could have while also stressing over a certain stubborn ass woman—and though I resented my friends deciding I needed a babysitter when Remee left, I’m glad he stayed.
Graham is the responsible, serious one of the group, and as much as I hate the thought, he and Remee are probably more alike than Remee and me. Maybe he can help me get into her way of thinking . Give me an idea of what to say to convince her to give us a chance.
When we stop to switch drivers and grab some coffee, I shoot a text to Remee.
Me: On our way back. Graham drives like an old lady.
Remee: Be careful
“Women are impossible,” I sigh, tossing my phone aside.
“Women, or one woman in particular?” Graham asks, steering us back onto the highway.
“She’s driving me crazy. We had so much fun when she was here, and then as soon as things got serious, she ran like her ass was on fire.”
“Did she give you a reason?”
