Page 13 of Built to Last

“So what are you going to do? Keep helping her try to get this other man’s attention?” Jilly asks.

“Fuck no. That man does not deserve her. No, it’s definitely time I came clean. Told her, in no uncertain terms, that she belongs with me.”

My sister reaches over and grabs my hand. “Finn. I never would have let her use you as a fake boyfriend had I known how you felt.”

“Don’t worry about it. The whole fake dating thing was my idea. You know Sadie would never hurt me on purpose.”

Jilly smiles. “I hope she feels the same way. You both deserve to be happy.”

chapterseven

Sadie

Saturday morning I find myself curled up on my sofa, streaming Scooby-Doo and snuggling with my cats. My doorbell rings and I pull open my front door without looking through the peep hole.

“Finn! What are you doing here?”

He’s standing on my porch in his work boots, with his tool belt slung low over his denim-clad hips. He’s wearing an obviously old t-shirt. It’s white and thin, revealing the dark curls on his torso. In the center of the shirt is a yellow thing that looks a bit like a taser. Under it reads:Found One.

I tilt my head, looking closer until I see the small letters printed on the yellow device:Stud Finder.

I snort out a laugh. “That’s probably really funny if you recognize that thing and don’t mistake it for a taser,” I say.

He chuckles. “No doubt. Dec gave it to me.”

His truck is parked in front of my house, a trailer connected to the back. There’s lumber and other materials in the bed of both.

“Alright, Velma, today’s the day. So show me where you want it.”

My mind immediately goes to sex. Which is surprising since I don’t think of it too often. It’s like he cracked open the seal on Pandora’s Box last night.

“The catio for your boys,” he says. “Remember?”

“Oh my gosh, Finn, we talked about that months ago. And I was just daydreaming. You totally don’t have to do that.”

“Gonna do it. So show me where, or I’ll decide where to put it.”

Are things weird between us? I keep waiting for them to be, but he’s acting normal. So I guess friends can make out for pretend and just move on. I ignore the pang of hurt that encircles my heart.

I move out of his way, and he follows me inside my house.

“I was thinking back here would be perfect,” I tell him. I lead him to the room I thought would be a great craft room. It’s full of half-started projects and supplies for things I’ll never finish. But it has great built-in shelving on one wall and light streams in from 2 different directions from the windows.

“The ones I’ve seen online usually use a window as their opening,” I explain.

“Yeah. That’s how I did that with the plans I drew up this morning.”

I put my hand on this arm. The crispness of his forearm hair presses into my palm. “Please tell me you’re not doing this as some misguided attempt at an apology for last night. Because you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shakes his head. “Velma, I’m not apologizing, because I don’t regret a fucking thing about last night.” He turns back to the windows and walks to the furthest one on the left. “This one?”

“Yeah, that should work well. I’ll go put my boys into my bedroom so they don’t try to escape through an open window. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

The next several hours pass by with the sounds of hammering and electric sawing. After Finn hauled most of his supplies into my backyard, I haven’t seen him much. I feel like the worst kind of fool trying to assign him ulterior motives for being at my house and building a screened-in patio for my cats.

ME: Finn is at my house right now. Building something for my cats.

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