Page 14

Swinging it open, I find Luke standing on my porch. “Hey, man.”

Shit. I have his ex, who I’m ninety-nine percent sure he still has feelings for based on his behavior at the barbecue, sitting at my kitchen counter, dressed in a wet beach dress and swimsuit.

He slides his hands into his jeans pockets. “Hey, I was just checking in to see how the renovations are going. Do you still need a hand?”

Luke looks off to the side, and it’s then that I notice Luna’s car parked in my driveway. It’s barely seven o-clock…fuuuuck.This doesn’t look good.

He turns back to face me, and I lean against the door frame, arms folded against my chest and taking up a casual stance. Honesty is the best policy, I guess. “She’s here to help me out with painting since she has some spare time on her hands with summer break.”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Paint? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luna do any DIY.” He laughs, “She called me over last month to hang a print.”

Fuck me, this is awkward. But I don’t like the way he’s mocking her apparent lack of skill. “I think she just wants to busy herself and took pity on the huge job I’ve got here.”

“Mm-hmm,” he responds. I can’t tell if he’s mad, sad, or indifferent. The guy has a better poker face than me, that’s for sure.

He looks down and scuffs the ground with his sneaker. “Anyway, I was just checking in.” He turns to walk away and back to his truck where it’s parked along the sidewalk, but then stops and faces me. “You know where I am if you need me.”

Jesus, I feel like an asshole, and I haven’t done anything wrong. “Thanks, man. Stop by sometime for a beer?”

“Sure, why not.” He climbs back into his truck, cranks the engine, and takes off down the road, reminding me of all the reasons why swearing off any type of romantic attachment is absolutely the right thing to do. I’ve had enough complications to last me a lifetime.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LUNA

“Istarted ripping up the floor in here and laying new boards, but I need to grab more materials to continue with the job. I'm going to check out color choices for the bedrooms, so I’ll run to the store later.”

Zach’s been off this past half hour since he answered the door. I swear I heard Luke’s voice, but I can’t understand why that would cause an issue. I’m over here helping out a friend. I jumped in the shower, and he started going through all the tasks he still has left to do. But he’s been, I don’t know…strange?

“The kitchen was recently replaced by the previous owners, and the walls are good in there, so I figured we could get away with just painting if you want to make a start?” He turns to me with a hesitant smile.

“Yeah, sure. I guess it needs prepping, the walls wiping and taping up?” That’s literally the extent of my knowledge when it comes to DIY.

Zach lifts a curious eyebrow. “You’ve done this before?”

“Well, duh.” I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow. “I own my place and wanted to make it homely but couldn’t afford to pay someone, so YouTube was my friend. Miss Independent here.” I point at the middle of my chest with pride.

His brows now furrow. “Luke didn’t help you?”

“No? He’s still a friend, I guess, but he’s not my boyfriend anymore, and I don’t like asking for favors.”

“Yeah, sure. Makes sense.” He claps his hands together and nods through to the kitchen. “I’ll show you where everything is and then head to the store.”

“I could come and help pick out colors? That is my forte after all!” And it is. My place is a mixture of pinks, yellows, and oranges—they work perfectly, if I do say so myself.

Zach shoots me a wary look from over his shoulder. “I’m not going for bright colors though; I want a moody feel.”

“To match your personality?” I retort quickly, skipping over to grab my purse.

“Precisely.”

I look downat the worn leather seat in Zach’s truck as we make our way to the hardware store. “You know, I’ve always been kind of surprised you don’t drive expensive cars. Do you have a Ferrari in Seattle?”

He signals right and quickly glances over at me, but I can’t see his eyes behind his aviators. “No. I have an F150 there too. You’ve always known I’m not materialistic. Money means fuck all. Some people spend it, some people save it, but most of mine goes to my Hockey Now foundation. Others need it more than I do. Bottom line, we all enter and leave this world in the sameway. When I think back to how Mom and Dad poured every penny into my career and went without themselves, the least I can do is pay it forward and help those less fortunate and share the same dreams as me.”

“So, you put all your money into the charity? I thought the galas did most of that?”

“Oh yeah, they do. Not all of my money goes to the foundation, just a large portion. I’ll change my truck when I need to.”