Chapter Two
“And the lawnmower’s over here, it’s an electric one, so you won’t have to worry about fuel, but be careful that you don’t accidentally run over the extension cord. I heard about someone doing that once, and it wasn’t a pretty story. Oh—look, there are some cutter-y things on the bench there… I think you use those to trim the edges? The weed killer’s in the drawer, you just need to mix it with some water. Hm, where’s the watering can? I should get that—”
“Miss Summers.” William interrupted with some amusement. She’d been showing him around the shed for the last five minutes, but it was clear she didn’t really know where anything was. He thought it was adorable. “I’m sure I’ll find everything I need.”
“Oh. Right.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. “Well, I’m off to the gym for an hour or so. Help yourself to anything from the kitchen. The bathroom’s at the top of the stairs on the right.”
“All right.” William nodded, a little disappointed that she wouldn’t be sticking around. “I’ll get to work.”
“Thanks, William. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, Miss Summers.”
“Buffy,” she said. “Call me Buffy, or I’ll start thinking we’re back at school.”
William grinned, wondering if a wink would be chancing it too far. “No problem, Buffy.”
***
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Buffy chanted to herself, tapping the steering wheel in time with her words. “Stupid, stupid Buffy.”
It was a mistake, having him work for her. She should have just said no when Jenny had suggested it, but her mind had been all floopy and her heart all a-flutter after seeing him walk in without a shirt.
She’d noticed him as soon as he’d walked into her classroom four months earlier. It would have been hard not to—what with his bright, peroxide hair and razor-sharp cheekbones—and she had at first mistaken him for a teaching assistant sent over by the university. He certainly looked older than his seventeen years, and when she’d found out that he was in fact a student, she’d been mortified.
She’d ogled him. Stared at him and wondered what he was hiding beneath the tight, black t-shirt—and he was a student.
It was bad. Dirty. But no matter how wrong she found it, no matter how many times she told herself to stop, she still looked. Still thought about him. And now he was going to be working for her over the summer.
Pulling the car to a stop, she groaned and hit her head on the steering wheel. “Stupid, stupid Buffy.”
***
When it started to rain, William looked up to the sky and cursed. He’d been working for all of ten minutes, and in that time had only managed to wrangle the lawnmower from out of the shed. Now he had to stop because of the stupid weather.
He didn’t want Miss Summ—no, Buffy—to be disappointed in him.
Sighing, he rolled the mower into the shed, and went to the back door of the house. He felt a little strange about going inside now that Buffy was no longer there, but his other option was to sit in the shed for the rest of the afternoon, and he didn’t much fancy doing that.
William kicked off his muddy boots and left them outside, sheltered from the rain by the awning over the back porch. Buffy’s house felt quiet, almost too quiet, and he padded through the kitchen on bare feet, peering this way and that and wondering what to do next.
He supposed that he could just go home and call to apologise later, but that would mean having to forego seeing Buffy again that day. Instead he went through to the living room, and then on up the stairs.
It was a small, compact house, but he felt it suited the woman who lived there. The decoration felt very feminine with girlish touches all over: flowers, light pastel colours, family photographs in bejewelled frames, and paintings adorning every wall .
The bathroom was clean and tidy, and after using the toilet, William had a quick look through the cabinets. All the usual suspects: face cream, deodorant, moisturiser, feminine stuff… and a box of condoms.
William eyed them before closing the cabinet, his suddenly sweaty fingertips leaving smudges on the mirror. Swinging around he saw a laundry rack on the radiator, tiny scraps of lace hanging from the pegs, and a silky-looking bra lying haphazardly across the top.
He swallowed and rushed out of the room, the sight of Buffy’s skimpy underwear having turned him on more than he’d thought it would. A door further down the hallway stood slightly ajar, and William caught a tantalising glimpse of a large double bed with a deep red comforter.
The scents of the house—Buffy’s perfume, mostly—seemed suddenly overwhelming, permeating every inch, until he felt smothered. Cursing, William hurried back downstairs to the safer, and less dangerous, parts of the house.
He took a deep breath when he reached the kitchen. “Get it together, you wanker,” he said to himself. He felt stupid, like a silly kid getting his first peek at the secret mysteries of a woman.
The rain still lashed heavily against the window, and William was just about to give up and go home when he noticed that one of the kitchen cupboards was missing its front, the hinges hanging uselessly and the door propped up on the floor.
Smiling to himself, William went to the back door, slipped on his boots and made a dash across to the shed for the toolbox. There was something he could do to keep himself occupied and be helpful to Buffy whilst he waited for her to return.
***
William heard her car pull up and then the sound of her key in the lock, but he didn’t move from his perched position on the countertop. He had a screwdriver in one hand and three screws held between his lips, having found that repairing the cupboard door by himself was a lot harder than it looked.
“Hello, William? Are you still here?” Her voice came from the living room, and then he heard her speak again, slightly more quietly. “Guess not.”
William angled himself on the counter so that he was able to prop the cupboard door up with his shoulder, then removed the screws from his mouth. He was about to call a hello back when Buffy walked into the kitchen, halfway through pulling off her white gym t-shirt.
He froze, unable to move, unable to speak. She had a bra on underneath, plain and not as pretty as the one he’d seen in the bathroom upstairs, but still—it was a bra. And he could see half of her boobs, and her smooth, tanned stomach and, oh God, he was getting hard. Right there on the counter, with the cupboard door hanging on by one hinge, his shoulder being the only thing preventing it from falling down completely.
William could do nothing but watch as Buffy, still unaware of his presence, pulled off her t-shirt and dropped it to the floor. He felt beads of perspiration appear on his forehead at just the thought of what she might do next. Maybe take off her joggers or, heaven forbid, her underwear.
But, no, he didn’t have to worry because at that very moment, she saw him, let out a shrill eep of surprise, and ducked down to pick up the discarded shirt before clutching it to her chest.
An awkward silence descended while William tried to calm his raging hormones. “I, um,” he began. “It started raining, and then I saw the broken cupboard, so…”
“Oh!” Buffy’s eyes flickered from William’s eyes to the cupboard door and back again. She glanced down at her shirt and, in a move that seemed impossibly fast, slipped it back on. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I don’t usually walk around half-naked. Well, okay, sometimes I do, but… I was just all wet from the rain, and sweaty from the gym, and the washer’s in here…”
She trailed off, unaware that nearly everything she said had William conjuring fantasies in his mind’s eye. “’M sorry too,” he said gruffly, then gestured with his head to the cupboard door. “Shouldn’t have imposed.”
“I’ve been meaning to fix that for weeks,” Buffy replied, “so it’s no imposition.” She frowned, and moved to stand next to him. “It looks like you need a hand.” Reaching up behind him, she held the corners of the door steady. “Can you get the screws in now?”
“Yeah.” William did just that, twisting the screwdriver and securing the door in place. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Buffy said. “I should be thanking you, though, doing this work for me.”
“It’s no trouble.” He jumped down off the counter. “‘Sides, I got hardly anything done today.”
“That’s not your fault.” She smiled. “Personally, I blame the rain.”
William grinned, enjoying the easy camaraderie between them now that the awkwardness had passed. In art class he’d admired her from afar and lusted after her body. Now he was coming to see that she was a pretty great person, too.
“Do you need a ride home?” she asked a couple of moments later. “It doesn’t look like the rain is going anywhere.”
“That’d be good, thanks.” William was loath to leave but he knew he couldn’t stay all day. “Should I come back tomorrow, weather permitting?”
“Yep,” Buffy said. “I don’t have any plans so we can work on the yard together.”
William resisted the urge to jump in the air and instead smiled winningly at her, ducking his head slightly. “Great.”
He went to collect his boots, wondering all the while if he’d imagined the slight blush on Buffy’s cheeks.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to everyone who commented on the first chapter. I'm glad you're enjoying so far. :) Thanks again to my wonderful beta reader Sotia!
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought by leaving a review. :)