Major Renovations (Ritter University #1) (7 page)

“Ugh. It was a scary place. Desperate people looking for summer flings. Not my scene.” Her father walked toward his truck. “Don't let her work too hard.” Famous last words from a man who worked so hard he made himself sick. His tires spit up rocks as he headed out of the lot, and then silence.

She turned her head to look at Ski, but he was staring at the building. “The windows are closed,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, you have AC.”

Ski smiled. Gorgeous pink lips...

Bam
! She hit the trigger on the nail gun, holding it inches from her thumb. Crap. She liked that thumb and she was an inch away from losing it.
Focus
. She turned to him, and those lips had stopped smiling.
Stop looking at his lips
!

“So, how's everything going?” Ski shoved his hands into his front pockets.

She could see the muscles of his chest bulging through the tight cotton. Hard, well-defined ridges making way to a taut waist. Or maybe that was just from her memory. The memory of that naked chest, water making tempting rivulets down smooth skin and firm muscles. Sweat beaded and dripped down the side of her neck.

Well, at least she wasn’t looking at his lips. Wasn’t there a question in there somewhere? “Ummm…”

“How’s it going? Did the inspection go all right?”

“Fine. He gave us the go-ahead, so we're back on track.” She hated talking to the top of his head, so she stepped down from the ladder. “I was kind of surprised you weren’t here.”

“Seriously? After last time, I didn’t think I was welcome.” Ski rocked from side to side, his eyes on the floor. “Well, I'll get out of your way.”

Ouch.
Out of her way? Sounded vaguely familiar. She never should have gone off on him like that.

Ski turned and headed around the side of the building. She stared after him. Watching him from the front was a delicious view, but the back wasn’t bad either. She couldn’t decide which she liked best. But right now, it didn’t matter which was best. She needed to stop him. She still owed him a grovel.
Crappity-crap.
“Um, Ski?”

He stopped, a sad excuse for a smile on his face. “Yeah?”

She was pure evil. Poor guy. His eyes looked so sad, his posture so defeated. How could she have hurt this beautiful man? Oh, right— the pure evil thing. “I'm sorry about the other day. I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you. The job. The inspector. It was all my issue and I was a total bitch. I'm sorry.”

He stood there. Dark brown eyes staring. His silence was a knife to her psyche. The sweat on her neck prickled. Crap. She ran a hand from her head to shoulders, trying to ease the discomfort.

“No worries. I understand. It was tough day and I’m sorry.” A grin curved his lips. A real smile, not that fake crap he’d been selling the past week. “Thanks.” He went around the back of the house and disappeared. Interesting. Words of understanding and a thanks, and then an immediate disappearing act. She shook her head. It was probably for the best. He was way too nice a guy to be looking for the type of no-strings relationship she wanted. Or needed.

She’d made a mistake on the job and she was still paying for it. But it wasn’t going to happen again. She couldn’t let her dad down. He was all she had left. And hell, her mom let him down enough for an entire lifetime.

She didn’t have time for gorgeous Polish-speaking fratties with beautiful, sad eyes. She didn’t have time for anyone long-term. The occasional good time was fine. A night on the town, a movie. No emotions. No attachments. No one to let her down— or leave— or both.

“Yeah.” She sighed and looked around. The rough day looked more like a rough week. Rough year.

Alone. With hours of work staring her in the face. And more than mild curiosity as to why someone named Mandy drew explicit pictures on Ski’s to-go box.

~»ΨΡ«~

Chapter
Ten

Sam

SAMANTHA BATTED away another mosquito. The floodlight was a necessary evil, since she couldn’t see a darn thing without it, but all the bugs in the tri-state area were finding their way to its glow. And once they found the glow, they made their way to her sweet-tasting blood. She assumed it was sweet, because they kept trying to suck her dry.

The vampire books she loved were probably based on the humongous mosquitoes flying around the great state of Indiana. Unfortunately, the blood-suckers hanging around her weren’t nearly as good-looking as the ones in the movies. Now, if they were— she wouldn’t mind that they were taking a pint with every bite.

The lights were almost done. She’d planned on stopping a few hours ago, but she wanted it done. She needed it done. This was her time to show her dad what she could do. Before he did something stupid like try to return to work.

She was shocked he hadn’t brought that up when he stopped by this afternoon. He would never admit it, but he wasn’t well enough to work the long, grueling hours he liked to force on himself. Not after the collapse— the fall that changed it all.

She’d never been so scared before. Watching him crumple. Pale skin. Shallow breathing. No strength. Watching him being carried off by the EMTs. Confusion in his stare. Fear in his shaky grasp. Watching him in the hospital. It had nearly killed her. She’d already lost her mom— she couldn’t lose him. He was all she had left.

“T’irsty?” Ski, armed with a bottle of beer and a bottle of water, walked around the front of the building.

She loved that accent. Every dropped H sent tingles down her spine. She set the cordless screwdriver on the bench and wiped the sweat from her forehead. It had been a long night. As much as she wanted a break, she’d made a promise to finish and she couldn’t fail. Not again. However, that bottle of water in Ski’s hand looked so delicious, perspiration dripping off it slowly to the ground. Cool. Inviting.

“Yes.” She grabbed the water and twisted off the cap. The cold liquid slid slowly down her sandpaper throat, and her stomach growled in disappointment.

“Hungry?”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you even eat dinner tonight? I can t’row a few burgers on the grill.”

“Are you sure you can pull yourself away from Mandy?” She hoped that didn’t sound jealous. She wasn’t jealous. She was just an interested third party. No bigs. Not like she’d spent all evening wondering who the large-breasted blond tramp was. Not at all. And yes, she assumed Mandy was a large-breasted blond bimbo. But really— who gave a guy cherry pie and decorated the box with drawings of— Lord only knew what? Not exactly subtle.

Ski smiled.

Dammit. She knew she’d sounded jealous. She must have. “Never mind.”

“The box was for Ryan. He wasn’t interested in what Mandy had to offer either, so he gave it to me. He thought, um, one of the crew might like the free dessert.”

“Ryan’s a nice guy. I like him. He seems to like you a lot, too.”

“That’s him. We’ve been friends since he started at Ritter’s.” He opened the beer he was holding and took a long drink. And no, she didn’t stare at the way his throat muscles moved. Much. Ski smiled at her and licked his upper lip. “Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about dinner.”

Dinner. A burger with cheese. She could practically taste the golden bun as her mouth watered. Too bad she didn’t have time. “I need to finish first, and it’s like, nine. Way too late to be eating.”

“It’s nine fifteen. And who cares? It’s time for fourth meal.”

Just the thought of food had her stomach yapping up a storm.

“Why don’t you get this done and I’ll fire up the grill.”

She stared at Ski, the thought of food whirring in her mind, and her mouth watered some more, the gnawing in her stomach growing.

“I’m starving. Don’t make me eat alone.” He took another swallow of beer.

Another growl. Louder. More demanding. How embarrassing.

“I’ll take that as yes.”

Oh, why not. “Sure.” She tipped the bottle back and downed the last drop of liquid glory. Amazing how delicious water tasted when you were desperate. She capped the bottle and placed it in Ski’s outstretched hand.

“Got it, boss.” He turned and walked back around the house.

Samantha pushed her bangs out of her eyes and grabbed her tools. She still had one more light fixture, but she’d deal with that in the morning. It could all wait till the morning. Twenty more minutes and she was going to have a nice homemade meal with a gorgeous man. Things were definitely looking up.

~»ΨΡ«~

Chapter
Eleven

Ski

SKI FLIPPED a burger on the grill and took another sip of beer. Dinner at nine at night— hell, half past nine. Not something he usually did. Not good for the body. Not good for training. And with football and wrestling, he was always in training.

Heaven forbid he didn’t make weight. He had to stay between one eighty-four and one ninety-six. Otherwise, he’d have to wrestle in a different weight class and his coach would have a shit-fit. And when coach was pissed, the whole world knew about it. Shit rolled downhill, and the wrestling team was at the bottom of that brown-sloped stank-pile.

Not that he’d complain tonight. His stomach needed real food. The small bag of corn chips he inhaled while playing Xbox wasn’t enough for anyone. He was hungry. He had two burgers searing on the grill, one for him and one for Samantha. A burger and a babe. Not a bad way to end the day.

He’d gotten so involved in the video game, blowing shit up, shooting his friends. He loved playing online. Even though he was on campus alone, he could play with his brothers where ever they happened to be. And somewhere around eight, Ryan had joined the fun.

Too bad the frat brother was such a dick.

Ski had tried to be nice— at first— but then he knifed Ryan in the back over and over again. And he’d enjoyed every single time. Bastard. That’s what Ry got for asking about Samantha again.

Well,
asking about
im
plied an innocent concern for her well-being. Actually, he didn’t ask about Samantha, he asked if Ski had given her his pie and if she’d… um, reciprocated. His language wasn’t as G-rated, however. Justifiable kill streak right there. Little did Ryan know that Ski gave the pie to Samantha’s dad. He would have loved that shit.

Ski flipped the burger, flames shooting around the meat when grease hit the fire. Figuring he could leave them unattended for a minute, he set down his beer and went in the back door to the kitchen. He grabbed the bag of buns, and checked the refrigerator for condiments. Ketchup, pickles, mayo, relish, jalapeños. He left them all out on the counter— she could pick what she wanted on her burger. She definitely needed something to eat. Between the gurgling stomach and the hollow eyes, she was a walking, talking zombie, complete with gray skin. The poor girl needed food and a long-ass nap.

He could use a few hours’ sleep himself. It had been a long day, full of ups and downs. Although he could barely remember any of the downs. The best up was when Samantha apologized. He’d needed that. He hated to admit how much.

The whole thing surprised him. After a week of silent treatment and overall detachment, he’d figured she hated him. He didn’t see any other option. But tonight, between the apology and the questions about Mandy, there was interest. Whether she’d admit it or not. There was. He couldn’t help but smile as he grabbed a pickle slice from the jar and stuck it in his mouth.

Why the hell did it matter so much?

And it did. Dammit. It mattered. She mattered. Even though he’d spent the last week trying to pretend she didn’t. Now he just needed to matter to her.

Music blasted from his phone speaker. Who the hell would call this late? He looked down at the screen. Ryan. What the hell did he want? Probably to cry about the spanking he took online. Well, maybe he’d learn not to talk shit about Ski’s woman. He smiled.
My woman
.
For the first time, there was a glimmer of hope.

Ski swiped the screen and brought the phone to his ear. “If you say one thing about pie, I swear, I’ll kick the shit out of you.”

“What the fuck, Ski?”

Wait— “What?”

“Something you forget to tell me?”

What could Ski have forgotten to tell him, except… shit.

“I’m a mentor this year for new business majors. Guess who I have, Ski? Guess.”

“I was going to tell you.”

“So, this isn’t some major fuckup by the admissions office.”

“Nope.” Not a fuckup by the admission office. A major fuckup by himself. Maybe, that remained to be seen. Changing one’s major junior year was a big risk. But wasn’t this the time to take risks, in college?

“Shit. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, well, shit.” Ski really should have told him, but he was having a hard time grasping the reality of it for himself.

“Yeah— shit. Have you told your father?”

“Nope.” That conversation would be ten times worse than this one, and this one wasn’t exactly like kicking an extra point.

“Well, if the mentors have the list, then the deans have it. Your father’s going to find out.”

Ski snapped his head back against the cabinet. “I thought I had more time. Don’t those lists come out the week before the term?”

“The mentor liaison is leading some exploration trip through Kenya starting next week, so all assignments needed to be done this week.”

Gowno
.
Ski really thought he had more time. He’d put off talking to the med school dean, but now he’d know. He’d figure out Ski wasn’t enrolled in medical school. He wouldn’t be in any of the classes. The dean would notice and call Ski’s father.

And
Tata
…
He’d be so disappointed. So hurt. Shit.

Not that it mattered. With all the strikes against Ski, it was only a matter of time before he disappointed his father. Clunky hands, lack of passion— Better to get it over with now, rather than wait till later. The black sheep was never going to be a heart surgeon.