Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Out of frustration, I whack it a few times with my hammer. Deep down, I know this isn’t going to do anything except it alleviates some of the frustration I feel like right now.
“What are you doing?”
I look up to find the love of my life and my worst enemy wrapped in a tight black skirt with a white blouse, standing inches away from the beginning of the giant ass puddle, wearing those sharp as hell high heels that make her legs look a mile fucking long. And two thoughts pop into my mind. One: she’s going to kill me. Two: I want those legs wrapped around my waist.
“Trying to fix the sprinkler.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It broke.”
“Clearly, or you wouldn’t be fixing it. What’s wrong with it?” She enunciates each word.
“Saying what’s wrong with it more clearly isn’t going to make my answer change. It broke. I’m trying to disconnect the pipe from the valve so the school can have water. If I can’t, no school today.”
“That’s not your decision to make.”
I shrug. “You’re right.”
“How long until you have this fixed?” She points to the massive puddle.
I look at it and grimace. “Well, it needs to dry out so I can dig.”
“Why can’t you dig now?”
“Because water fills the hole.”
“Well make it stop.”
I am really starting to love this game.
“I’m trying.” I point to the valve.
“No, that,” she says, pointing to the soaked ground. “Dig the hole or whatever you have to do and fix it.”
“Right,” I say as I adjust my ball cap. “See, here’s the thing. There’s a lot of water on the ground. If I dig a hole, water fills the hole.”
“Like I said, make it stop.”
“How do you suppose I do that, Lemon?”
“It’s Ms. Walsh,” she says sharply. “I know your parents raised you better than to disrespect someone of my stature.”
Lemon’s not joking. She tilts her chin upward, as if she’s some type of royalty. I roll my eyes and shake my head.
“Fine, Ms. Walsh.”
I go back to the valve and pick up the wrench. Another tug and I give up. Pulling out my phone, I search my contacts for the water department. My call goes to voicemail. I leave a message stating the emergency, as well as the urgency because no one wants the wrath of Lemon, and I hang up.
“Look, I don’t expect you to understand—”
“I’m not stupid,” she says as she crosses her arms. I wish, with all my being, she didn’t do shit like this. The top two buttons of her shirt are undone and the way she has her arms cross pushes her breasts up. God how I miss touching and sucking on them. She’s blessed with the perfect set of tits. Hell, everything about her is fucking perfect, right now down to her smart mouth.
“My eyes are up here,” she says, pointing to her face.
“Sorry,” I mutter. Except I’m not sorry. I could stare at her for days and not tire of what I see. “Anyway, I called the water department because the casing is stuck, and I need them to bring their tools out. Right now, the school doesn’t have any water. When they—the city—installed this portion for the sprinkler, they didn’t give you a bypass.”
“What’s that mean?”
“The bypass would allow you to shut off different lines, which is what we need to do now.” I point to the small lake. “We don’t want the water running to the sprinkler line because all it’s doing is saturating the grass, but we need the water to run to the school so toilets can flush, hands can be washed, and kids can get a drink from the fountain.”
“And you can’t fix this?”
I shake my head, hating to admit defeat. “I need this piece here”I tap the casing with my rubber booted toe“to come off.”
Lemon huffs. She then walks toward me, picks the wrench up off the ground, and starts beating the shit out of the dial.
“Stop,” I shout and wait for an opening so I can hold her arm back.
Only the opening never comes. Water spurts, gushes, and streams in all directions. She gasps while I fight the rushing rapid of water spray to get the valve shut off again. The only saving grace is the pipe is now broken and the school will have water.
I glance at Lemon. She’s soaked from head to toe, standing there sputtering.
“I told you to stop.” It’s a low blow, but one I can’t resist taking.
“I hate you!” she screams.
She leaves me no choice but to stand and defend myself. “You hate me?” I ask as I get in her face.
Lemon nods.
Someday, I’ll look back on this moment and ask myself, what the fuck were you thinking. The answer is clear.
I wasn’t.
My hands encase her cheeks, pulling her forward. Our lips mash together. Eager, hungry, and finally reuniting in familiarity. Lemon hungrily pushes into me, her mouth open—inviting and welcoming me.