"Take it," he insisted. "No." He sighed loudly then proceeded to open the front door. He held it for me as I walked outside. I squinted, the sun blinding my eyes. I blinked up in confusion as it darkened suddenly. And I realized that he had placed his palm in front of me, blocking the brightness of the sun. My eyes moved to his face. He was looking at me. His eyes looked very, very fucking blue that my throat felt tight. "Why?" I blurted out. Another sign of weakness. Asking him a stupid question about his actions. About his feelings. I saw him swallow. And just before he could answer, I walked ahead of him. Why are you walking away? Are you scared that he'll answer? Or that he won't? I ignored the voice in my head. "I don't have all day," I said. "Let's go." "Not that way." I stopped and turned around. He pointed at a dusty company truck parked on the other end of the building. I bit my tongue and headed to the truck. He opened the door for me, waiting for me to get in before he closed it. Why couldn't he be a jerk and stop being a gentleman now? For once why couldn't he give me what I wanted and leave me alone? Before he could slide inside the truck, someone called out his name. An older man slapped his back in that man to man greeting. I couldn't hear their conversation clearly because the windows were up. His phone in the cup holder lit up and I saw his text. Dad: She's gone back to Toronto. For a while at least. I'd seen his phone before and it wasn't this. This phone looked new and a different model. Maybe it wasn't his. I jerked my head away, looking outside the window when he opened the driver's side door. He got in silently, the roominess of the truck accommodating his sheer size. His long legs looked comfortable as he started the vehicle, as he stepped on the gas. I wondered if he remembered the times we were in my car, just like I was remembering them now. If they even meant anything to him. Stop this! Don't make any more assumptions about you and him. You know where that led. I didn't trust myself around him. I wanted to hurl accusations at him, questions that I desperately wanted answers. But I didn't. That's a first. He threw me a glance, but I turned away from him and faced the window instead. He stopped the truck. "Give me a few minutes. The guys have been waiting for me all day to get back," he said and got out of the vehicle. Several men in different sizes and ages and wearing hard hats approached him. This time I lowered the window so I could hear their conversation. I saw how people respected him, how they went to him for reassurances, to ask what they needed to do about this problem or that. It seemed like he had answers for most of their questions. And when he didn't, he promised them he'd find out. He'd pull out a small notepad from his back pocket, a pen in his front pocket and jotted it down. I didn't like finding out how competent he was. How responsible. At least in his work ethic. Apparently it didn't apply in other parts of his life. "How was that project out of town you've been working on? Rick said that was supposed to take only a couple days," one of the men asked. He had a dirty gimme cap on rather than a hard hat. "We ran into some complications," Cameron said. "The plumbing, the electrical. Some materials were missing." "Someone was stealing?" Cameron shrugged. "It's all taken cared of now." The man stroked his beard. "Took a while I was told." Cameron nodded. "A few days." "You finished it though. Good job, boss." He slapped Cameron on the back. "You going to have beer with us this time?" Cameron shook his head but smiled at him. "I'm going to have to pass, Mack." "You always do. Got a girl you gonna come home to, eh?" Suddenly Cameron turned his head and caught me looking at him. I didn't remove my gaze and matched his stare. "If she'll let me," he replied. "Well, make it so that she does! Get your ass out of here. Some of us gotta work." Cameron was silent as he got inside the vehicle, as he started the truck and stepped on the gas. I stared straight ahead, pretending to be interested in what I was seeing, but the truth was... I was so aware of him beside me, that I... ached. "We refer to this place as The Yard." I jumped when I heard his voice, but he just kept going and didn't comment. "The office downtown is called The Necktie." I would have laughed if my heart didn't feel heavy. If he could act nonchalant about everything, so could I. "How come?" "The downtown office is where we meet clients, do presentations. Mostly." I'd heard this before from Rick. "So?" "So you have to wear a tie," he answered. I could hear a smile in his voice. "Rick's rules." I smirked. "You'll get calls from clients asking to set up an appointment with Rick, or if he's not available, with me or Elijah. He's one of our foreman. You'll meet him eventually."