He's with Her

Chapter 2

I'm sitting in Nick and Sam's living room. It's a cozy little apartment on the outskirts of the city. The view is breathtaking; you can see mountains in the distance and a lush park across the way. Their home is beautifully decorated, but that's no surprise. Sam's one of the best interior decorators there is out here. She's always had a knack for color palettes and furniture feng shui. 

Sam had to run to work, but I came over to see Nick. He's a mechanic - aka a lifesaver - and offered to help me figure out what the hell's been wrong with my car. 

I'm refreshing social media pages while I wait for him to change into something "he doesn't mind messing up". There's a noise behind me and I look up. My breath catches in my throat when I see him. He's wearing his paint jeans. He paints on the side and the various color splotches have taken over the blue denim, making him look like a painting himself. He has a dark grey V-neck that clings just enough to show off the curves of his body's muscles. 

"Let's go," he says, picking up a rag and tucking it into his back pocket for good measure. I don't trust myself to speak, so I nod and stand, pretending to still be interested in whatever's on my phone. 

As we head to the car, I can't help but notice how shiny his hair is. Streams of sunlight flow in through the building's windows, making his red hair seem like it's on fire. 

"-Robin?" 

He looks back and I try to look normal. "Sorry, what?" 

"I said how's work going?" 

"Oh. It's fine. Same old, same old." I shrug. What can I say about my boring office gig at the hospital? I'm doing administrative work, which is basically sorting paper stacks of boring insurance premiums. He nods, doesn't ask any follow up questions.

We get to my car and he pops the hood. He peers in, and I want to look away, but I don't. I want to remember the way he looks, leaning over the engine, his eyebrows scrunched together as he tries to assess what's wrong. 

"Okay, see this?" He motions me over. I stand next to him and peer in at the dust coated tubes and metal. "This is how you tell if your oil's low." He takes a long pin out and shows me where the line of oil is. He goes on, talking about maintenance and valves and indicators. But he's standing to close to me that it's distracting. For a guy who works on cars all day, he smells like nature. He's got the scent of trees right when they're in full spring swing. Like fresh leaves and deep bark. 

He runs all the basics by me again. Though this is something we've done a dozen times before, he knows my retention rate of all this mechanical information is pretty low. I've had him explain how an engine works to me six times, and I'm still not quite sure how it does. Whenever I say this, he laughs and happily explains it again. Just takes some time to sink in, he says. You just have to hear it enough times, and it'll sink in. 

He twists a few valves and knobs, heads to the driver's seat and and gauges something there. Then he gets on his knees and checks under the car, clicking on the small flashlight he brought along. He talks out loud, problem solving as he goes. It's fascinating to listen to, but I don't really know what any of the terms or parts mean. Still. The sound of his voice is nice. 

"Hey Robin, can I ask you a question?" 

My heart stops. These last few months, my feelings for Nick have intensified. I was hoping they'd go away, a crush brought on by some unexplained sexual attraction. But I know Nick. I know what a good person he is. Him and Sam have been dating for five years, and Sam and I have been friends since high school. I was there the moment they met. I liked him immediately, though not in a romantic way. I thought him and Sam were perfect for each other. Over the last six years, he's continually proved what an amazing person he is. Besides always treating Sam with love and respect, he's just good. He's Canadian level good - nice to everyone he meets and no one ever has anything bad to say about him. A few years ago, he was driving home from work at night when he saw a drunk girl stumbling around the block. He noticed a few dudes were half a block behind, keeping a watchful yet predatory eye on her. He offered her a ride home, but she declined, so he drove next to her on the sidewalk until she reached her front door. The following guys were angry, but once Nick called out that he had the police on the line, they quickly dispersed. 

That's the kind of guy Nick is. And I love that my best friend has found someone so caring and wonderful. 

It's only been lately that I've been noticing just how wonderful he truly is.

"Yeah, what's up?" I ask casually. A small voice in my mind wonders if he's going to ask me if I love him. If I ever envision us together. If I'd ever betray Sam and elope with him. Nick sits up on a knee and hesitates. 

"If I asked Sam to marry me, do you think she'd say yes?"

The floor goes out from under me. I feel myself shattering, but Nick's staring right at me so I force a smile. 

"Of course," I say. "Who wouldn't?" 

He flashes me a grin, then reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a small, blue velvet box. I already know what's inside before he opens it. 

"Think she'll like this?" 

It's a single diamond, not too small, but not gaudy either, protruding from a sparkling gold band. It's classic. 

"It's beautiful," I say, ignoring that here's the man of my dreams, on one knee, showing me a ring he plans to give my best friend. "She'll love it."