M. K. Stelmack - A Roof Over Their Heads

He now had room to move to the other end of the pipe but no way did he want Alexi thinking he actually chose Connie. “She’s my sister.”

“Your sister?” Her eyes narrowed. “So yesterday, when you asked about the landlady, you were really asking if your sister had contacted me?”

He took his time to get to the other end of the pipe. “Yep,” he said, his back half-turned to her. “I didn’t want to get involved in her business.” He shoved the other end of the pipe into a fitting. It went in easy and straight. Good. So long as he used his hands and not his mouth, things went well. “Still don’t, but she’s a bad habit.”

He felt her slide behind him and out of the room. At the door, she paused. “You think helping others is a bad habit?”

Seth had long ago lost track of the number of people he’d been obliged to help during the past couple of years, all because he had helped the wrong person. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess so.”

A smile played at the edge of her mouth. “So you’re saying that I shouldn’t feel guilty that you took time out of your schedule to help me?”

Guilt. He knew too much of that. “You can only be guilty for your own choices, and it was my choice to come here today.”

It was the truth. He’d really done what he wanted, when he wanted.

Her hand moved and he supposed it was going to her phantom phone. Instead it rose to her cheek, her hair, to wrap around the back of her neck, as if she didn’t know what to do with it.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “I needed to hear that.”

Whaddaya know, Seth thought, he’d made her feel better. His bad habit had finally done some genuine good.

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