I eyed the titles. Books about plants and wildlife. Though I doubted they contained anything I didn’t already know, I turned to Gabby, trying to figure out how to thank her for thinking of me. But she was already digging in the fridge, my moment of attention already gone. With a sigh, I waited, ready to accept my sandwich and follow her to her room.

That night, after she and Rachel went to sleep, I went to the kitchen, grabbed one of my books, and stayed up late reading. As I thought, the book didn’t offer anything new; but it was better than her textbooks.

The following morning, after I returned from campus, I tried to continue reading but grew frustrated. The books were fine. The waiting at home wasn’t. I wanted to walk with her to each class and face the men there as a man. Though she seemed to tolerate me, I didn’t think she was ready to accept me openly. I needed to find a way to make myself useful, a way for her to need me.

Giving up on reading, I stared out the window. What could I offer her that she would need? She didn’t seem to need or want a man’s attention or affection. I recalled her sigh last night when we’d run out of ham. She needed someone to bring her food. Unless she liked fresh rabbit—which I doubted was the case—I needed money and a job to provide for her.

A car drove past, and I smiled.

If Gabby was willing to bring me books, maybe I could teach myself enough about cars to be useful to her. The rusted thing she drove would need attention eventually.

That night, after she went to sleep, I eased off the bed and shifted to my skin. I tore a page from one of her notebooks and picked up a pen. With the pen against the paper, I hesitated. How should I start? How would I end? Love, Clay? I sighed, looked at her curled under the covers, and knew I needed to keep it simple for both our sakes. She wasn’t ready for even a hint of what I felt for her. The brief encounter with her in her swimsuit proved that.

I wrote the word mechanics, then leaned the paper against the stack of books she’d brought me. Hopefully, she’d understand.

As soon as she moved, I was awake. I held myself still as she sat up and brushed her hair out of her face. She looked over at the dresser, as if sensing something was out of place, and got out of bed. She picked up the note, stared at it for a moment, then turned to glare at me.

“So you can write words to me, just not speak them?”

I wanted to cringe. I hadn’t considered that.

“Whatever. You’re going to get caught creeping around the house at night.”

However, when she returned home, she had several books on mechanics and one on do-it-yourself home repairs.

Chapter 8

Gabby was deep in thought as she read next to me on our bed. Since bringing me the books on mechanics, time with Gabby had become more special. She had seen right away that I couldn’t turn the pages on my own and told me to nudge her when I needed a flip. She’d unknowingly given me permission to touch her. And over the past week, I’d read fast and brushed my nose against her bare leg as often as I could.

Tonight, her scent clouded my senses, and I swam in my own paradise as she sat beside me. I didn’t mind that she didn’t seem to notice me because I knew what was happening. She was accepting not only my presence but me, too.

Though I’d already decided to learn more about mechanics to help her, her acceptance pushed me harder to learn faster. I needed a way to show her what she meant to me. What her acceptance meant to me.

So I absorbed the information on the pages. The basics of an engine were easy to grasp, but the practical application was a bit harder. I couldn’t work on her car during the day, mostly because she was gone at school, and partially because I knew she wasn’t yet ready to see me as a man. So at night, I carefully used her car as a test subject with the tools I’d procured here and there from the neighbors.

Soon, I moved from the engine basics to a deeper understanding of the subsystems and the hi-tech tools needed to troubleshoot them.

I was reading about those tools when I heard a car pull into the drive and another pull in front of the house. Lifting my head, I listened to Rachel’s familiar step as she walked down the drive. Then, she was speaking to someone.

I nudged Gabby, and she automatically turned my page for me. I smiled and was tempted to kiss her for her consideration but decided to nudge her again. The second nudge broke through her concentration. She finally looked up and met my gaze. I looked pointedly at the closed bedroom door. We both heard the front door open and Rachel speaking.

“...and this is where I live. Please have a seat, and I’ll change quickly. My roommate and our dog should be around here somewhere.”

“No rush,” a man answered. “Our reservation isn’t until six.”

Gabby looked at me, her eyes wide and her scent clouding with worry. Why would it worry her that Rachel brought a man home? I didn’t care for it either; but after seeing the way Rachel dressed when she went out, I’d known it would be inevitable.

Rachel knocked on Gabby’s door, and Gabby jumped slightly. Her behavior puzzled me. Gabby rushed to close the book in front of me and called, “Come in.”

The words were barely out of Gabby’s mouth when Rachel walked in still wearing her clothes from her job at the hospital. She reeked of chemicals and sickness. Though she smiled, her flushed cheeks had me worrying. Gabby wasn’t like me; she could get sick. I hoped Rachel stayed back until she washed.

“There you are,” Rachel said, closing the door. “Come meet Peter.” She walked closer to Gabby and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Don’t kill me, but he has a friend without a date tonight, and I said I had a friend without a date tonight...please come with.”

A what? I turned to stare at Gabby, who groaned. Anxiety drifted from her. I didn’t know what a date meant, but Gabby didn’t seem to like it. The fact that Rachel had brought a man home and now wanted Gabby to leave with her, worried me.

“Don’t do this to me, Rachel. This won’t end well, and you’ll probably never forgive me.”

“Come on...please?” Rachel said as she sat on the bed next to Gabby. “I really like this one.”

Frustratingly ignorant, my confused gaze bounced between the two women.

“That’s the problem. Remember what I said? It’s always a guy who ruins a friendship.”

I didn’t remember that conversation, but Rachel seemed to. Not that it appeared to stop her from begging.

“I don’t want to go out tonight,” Gabby said softly, desperation changing her tone.

Go out. I knew that term. That meant leaving dressed in short skirts. I glared at Rachel. No amount of leftovers would atone for this.

Gabby glanced at me, then gave me a nudge. Was the nudge because I was glaring or because she wanted me to bite Rachel? I was willing to bite.

“I like having a friend,” Gabby said.

Something in her tone stopped my glare, and I turned to study her. Gabby held herself back from people. I’d witnessed that over the summer and when I’d followed her to school. Yet, she wasn’t that way with Rachel. She relaxed around her. I’d noticed that right away. Could it be that Gabby was as lonely as me?

“If he hits on you, then it wasn’t meant to be. Don’t worry so much,” Rachel said with a smile.

Rachel pulled Gabby off the bed, and I hopped down, sticking close to Gabby. I wasn’t sure what they’d decided. Were they going out or was Rachel just introducing Gabby to the man in the living room?

In the living room, a man with light hair and light brown eyes sat on the couch. He stood as soon as he saw the women. Or, rather, Rachel. His gaze didn’t waver from her, the scent of his attraction flooding the air.

Good. He could have Rachel. Not her leftovers, though. Those were still mine for putting up with the damn collar.