Page 11 of Screwed

“That checks out,” I said with a sigh. I sank back onto my haunches. “Yeah, we grew up together. Well, specifically, Jules and I grew up together. Nate was quite a bit older, so he obviously didn’t spend too much time playing with us. He sure loved telling us what to do, though.”

Ethan snorted. “That sounds like him.”

“It’s good to see that much hasn’t changed,” I said. “And if we’re in the business of trading questions… how did you meet Nate?”

Ethan smiled and ran a calloused thumb over the jagged edge of a broken cabinet piece, his expression turning thoughtful. “I actually used to build stuff like this from scratch. High-end, custom-made furniture. Dining tables, bed frames, the whole nine yards.”

I dropped the shovel and wiped a stray hair from my face. “Really?” I could tell that was where his actual passion lay. It was so obvious that I could pick up on it in just the few conversations we’d had up until this point. “What made you take the jump to go into construction, then?”

He let out a short, dry chuckle. “I was young and naïve. I just wanted to spend my days in a studio making pretty things. Spreadsheets weren’t exactly my speed, and I ended up partnering with a guy who claimed they were his. Said he loved the business side of things.” The bitter flare of anger behind his words took me aback. He picked up the crowbar again and gripped the handle tightly, his eyes scanning the vaulted ceiling.

“Turns out he was so good with spreadsheets he could clear out our entire business account. Guy skipped town and left me with a mountain of debt and a liquidated shop,” he said.

The final line hit me like a gut punch. I felt enraged that anyone could take advantage of someone as genuine as Ethan, let alone leave him stranded like that. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

He shrugged those massive shoulders and gave me a grin. “It’s alright. Honestly, it was a blessing in disguise. Nate pulled me out of the ditch. We met when he was freshly discharged and I was drowning my sorrows. A bar, obviously. Nate got into a fight and I saved his butt. To thank me, he got me onto the Cornerstone crew the same week.”

“A bar fight? Nate?” I asked in disbelief. “And you? Ethan, I can’t imagine you putting anyone on their ass.”

“Remember what you said about looks,” he reminded me, but even as he said it, his face turned red. He cleared his throat. “That changed my life. These guys became the brothers I never knew I needed. And now, things are just easy. There’s something clean about honest labor, you know? Just hard work, no hidden books, being in the dirt with people who actually have your back.”

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I walked over to the ruined island base, using my hands to gather a cluster of loose insulation tufts to toss into an empty box. “I’m glad things worked out for you, and I’m happy you found each other. I guess it’s a case of like-brother-like-sister. Jules is a fixer, just like him.”

“Me too,” Ethan replied. He swiped the back of his forearm across his sweaty forehead, leaving a dark streak of gray drywall dust across his skin. I giggled and got to my feet, then walked over to him.

“You have a little something right there,” I informed him, pointing to his forehead. “Hold on. May I?” I loosened my sleeve and pulled it over my fist, gesturing to his head. Ethan nodded slowly, and I reached up carefully to clean off the smears.

I could feel his soft breath against my cheek, and he was tall enough for me to have to stand on my toes to compensate for my reach. I felt his eyes on my face, and when I met them with my own, I realized just how unique they were. A true hazel blend of earthy browns and greens with blue near the iris. A stunning combination that was as unique as he was.

“Ava?” he asked again, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yes?” I answered just as quietly.

He swallowed hard.

“Why are you here?” His mouth curled into a gentle smile, half teasing. “You’re not exactly cut out for this life. Like I said, you’re… softer. Delicate.”

Was there really such a big gap between fragile and delicate? It seemed so. I almost found myself wanting to tell him the truth about why I was here. But the reality of my situation hit me, and I forced myself to roll my eyes and take a step back.

“If I didn’t do that great a job, you could always just offer constructive criticism,” I said, trying to deflect his concern with sarcasm yet again.

“No!” he said quickly. “No, I was just… I was just pulling your leg a bit.”

I knew what he was doing. I’d mentioned Julia and Nate and the similarities they shared when it came to helping their friends out of dire straits. He must’ve taken that to mean that my own situation was less benign than I’d made it seem. But he didn’t push. The worst part of it all wasn’t Ethan’s gentle prying into my business, it was that for a second there, I was actually tempted to tell him on my own. That was the dangerous thing about his sweetness.

When he seemed to tell that I wasn’t super comfortable with the topic, he simply dropped it, smoothly transitioning into safer waters. He gripped the loose end of the fallen ceiling beam, testing its weight with a firm shake.

“I think being stuck in that trailer with the other two is starting to scramble my brain. I don’t always think before I speak.”

“I thought they were your brothers?” I asked playfully, relieved to feel comfortable again.

“That’s what makes it awful,” Ethan shuddered. “It’s so cramped in there that we’re practically living on top of each other. And with Deacon gassing us on the regular, you can imagine how pleasant that is. The guy can literally peel paint off the walls.”

I laughed, the first genuine, full-bellied laugh I’d had in a long time. Ethan stopped fiddling with the beam to just look at me. “Oh, jeez. That sounds like a health hazard more than anything else.”

“You’re telling me. I’ve been debating whether I should report him to Cornerstone for endangering his crewmates,” he muttered.

“Tell you what. Why don’t the three of you stay in the main cabin for the duration of the job?” I offered.