CHAPTER 8
JIMMY
Two days. With the both of us working, it only took two days to paint the house.
I should’ve been proud of that.
Instead, I found myself brooding over the fact that I didn’t have a reason to see Mackenna today.
Yesterday had been worse than the day before. She barely spoke three words to me, and seemed to go out of her way to work on separate areas. She’d been more covered, too, wearing a baggy pink T-shirt and old jeans. I wasn’t sure if it was to ward off a sunburn or if she was trying to hide her body from me.
Leaving out the part about how I spied on her while she was singing, I’d told her I was sorry for how I acted, hoping we could make amends. She’d simply told me it was fine, and that was that.
When we were done, she stuck around to help clean up, then went inside the house to hang out with that damn parrot. While I was in the kitchen looking for something to eat, I could hear her cooing and making kissy sounds in the other room.
It made my dick so fucking hard I thought about putting the apron back on just to hide the giant bulge in my pants.
After the visit, she left without even saying goodbye to me, and my boner deflated along with my ego.
This morning, I was woken up before 5:00 by Sweet Pea’s racket, just like every other morning since I’d been here. He was starting to get on my last nerve. Fortunately, he usually stopped around 7:00 and I was able to get back to sleep.
Glancing over at the clock, I saw it was mid-morning, but made no move to get out of bed. I didn’t have shit to do today and planned to spend it lazing around.
That is, until my dad called.
“Jimmy,” he greeted. “I heard you finished painting already. Heard it looks great.”
A grin tugged at my lips when I thought about the awful color. “Well, Grandma’s house will be the talk of the town for a while, that’s for sure.”
“I also heard you had a helper… a lady-friend.”
I huffed. “I’m pretty sure Mackenna hates me, so ‘friend’ isn’t the right word. But, yeah, she helped. She was great. I couldn’t have done it without her.”
“Uh-huh,” Dad said, reading me like a book because I rarely rambled. “Why don’t you just ask her out?”
“I already told you.” Rubbing a hand over my face, I sighed. “She hates me.”
“Well, how about something to cheer you up?”
“Sure.”
“I know it’s only been a few days, but we’re impressed with you—the way you agreed to this and how hard you’ve been working.” He paused. “We want you to sign up for your fall classes.”
That had me bolting upright. “Seriously?”
“Now, we’re not paying for them yet,” he went on. “You still have to prove you can stay out of trouble. But it might be a good idea for you to get registered before they fill up.”
“Thanks,” I breathed out, feeling good at his words of praise. “I brought my laptop, but Grandma doesn’t have internet. I guess I’ll have to find somewhere with Wi-Fi.”
Dad snorted. “Maybe you can try to get Grandma up to speed with technology while you’re there.”
“I highly doubt she’ll go for it,” I said with a smile. “I’ll try to find an internet café or something in the next town over. Daywood might have a coffee shop.”
“Alright. I’ll let you get on that. Just wanted to tell you that you’re doing a good job.”
“That means a lot, Dad. Thanks.”
After we hung up, I pulled on some jeans and a black T-shirt with cut-off sleeves. It was early enough in the day that the heat hadn’t gotten too bad yet. If I left now, I had a good chance of not sweating my ass off on the way into town.
In the kitchen, I grabbed a Twinkie for breakfast and found a new note on the fridge.
Jimmy,
I’m shacking up at Ernie’s for the night. Be nice to Sweet Pea and give him a peanut. There’s a bag in the pantry.
P.S. Don’t you dare tease me about doing the walk of shame in the morning.
-Grandma
My face screwed up at my grandma’s bluntness, and I picked up a nearby pen.
TMI, Grandma. I don’t need to know about any of that... and Tweety Poo can kiss my ass.
-Jimmy
Grinning, I left the note where it was, and grabbed my laptop and charging cord. Before I could get out the door I turned back, picked up a handful of peanuts, and dumped them into the bird’s food dish.
“I still think you’re an asshole,” I told him, and he squawked something that repeated my sentiment. “At least we can agree on something.”
When I got out to my car I turned the key in the ignition, only to be met with silence. I tried again but nothing happened.
Just a quiet click.
Fucking great.
I’d have to take the car into the auto shop sooner than I thought. Blowing out a breath, I sat back and tried to think of what to do next. The morning sun rose higher in the sky, peeking over the tall trees in Grandma’s yard.
Wincing at the bright light, I slid on my sunglasses. My eyes trailed over to my neighbor’s house and I smiled.
Maybe I’d have a reason to see Mackenna after all.
*
I knocked on the dark blue door and heard movement from inside the house. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I stood back and waited for Mackenna to open up, wondering what level of distain she’d have for me today.
The door swung open, but it wasn’t her face that caught my attention.
She was wearing pajamas. Not just any pajamas. A fucking onesie. A zebra-striped onesie, long-john style.
I shouldn’t have found it sexy—there was nothing sexy about it—but fuck.
Surprisingly, it turned me on. Big time. I felt my cock thicken, pressing uncomfortably against the zipper of my jeans.
And when she jutted her hip out and her hand landed on the curve there, my fists clenched inside my pockets.
Little black buttons ran all the way down the length of the ridiculous outfit and I wanted nothing more than to pop them open, one by one. With my teeth. Her feet were bare, displaying those dark purple toenails.
“Good morning,” I managed, my voice gruff.
“You just can’t stay away, huh?” she responded dryly, leaning against the doorframe.
Baby, you have no idea.
“I need a favor,” I said, and she raised an eyebrow. “Two favors, actually.”
“Okay…” She impatiently tapped her foot.
“I need help getting my car to the shop. It won’t start.”
Her lips twitched and the left side of her mouth curved up slightly. “What’s wrong with the saggin’ wagon?”
“The saggin’ wagon?” I repeated, confused.
“The saggy testicles on your bumper,” she explained with a wave of her hand. Her nose scrunched up, adorable and sexy at the same time. “That’s disgusting, by the way.”
Laughing, I rubbed at the stubble on my jaw. “I forgot all about that. Some friends at school put it on there as a joke…” I trailed off at her stony expression. “But I guess you don’t find it very funny.”
She sighed. “I’ll make you a deal. Remove the bumper balls, and I’ll help you.”
I grinned. “You got it, Mack.”