Opposites Attract

Chapter 7: The Hulk Paid Us a Visit

"What do I mean? I mean there is a giant gaping hole in the guest room."

"Well how did it get there?"

"The Hulk paid us a visit."

"Jane, can you be serious please?"

"I am being serious! I already told you, a tree fell."

"Well did you fix it?"

"Fix it? How am I supposed to fix a hole in the side of our house?"

"I don't know dear, but you've always been good at problem solving." I roll my eyes. For someone so successful, my mother is an airhead.

"I put a tarp over the hole, but it is still there. I can't fix it, hence why I called you. I need you to call someone to come and patch it up." I explain to her, for the third time.

"Okay, I'll give Clare a call."

"No, Mom! Clare can't fix it, she is a cook!" I hear mumbling on the other line, letting me know my mother is no longer listening.

"Sorry dear, I have to go!" She hangs up before I can protest. Groaning, I throw my phone onto my bed. Walking into the kitchen, I start to go through the drawers in our counter to find the old phone book. There must be someone listed in there who I can call to fix the house. After twenty minutes of searching, I am unsuccessful and interrupted by the doorbell.

"I was told there was a hole in the house that I'm supposed to cook away?" I hear as soon as I open the door.

"Hi Clare," I smile and invite her in. "I tried to explain the situation to my mother, but I don't think she really grasped what was going on." Clare laughs.

"Sounds like your mother. On my way over, I called a contractor to come and fix the hole, don't worry." I let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Clare."

"No problem. Now, what do you want for lunch?"

"I could really go for a nice steak, and maybe some lobster tail?" A voice responds from the living room. Clare gives me a questioning look and I roll my eyes. Asher emerges from the living room only wearing a pair of my brother's sweatpants. No shirt. Clare quirks an eyebrow.

"I don't believe we've met," Clare sticks out her hand. "I'm Clare." She stares him down, waiting for him to accept the handshake.

"Hello Clare, I'm Asher." He accepts her hand and lightly shakes it. "I was kidding about the food, by the way." He smirks and I scoff.

"No you weren't." Asher glares at me, I shrug innocently.

"How about some Italian food?" Clare offers and my mouth waters.

"That sounds perfect," I respond. She scurries off into the kitchen. The doorbell rings again while I'm on my way to the living room. I answer it to be greeted by a greasy, middle-aged man with a tool belt around his bulging waist. I feel Asher's presence behind me.

"I'm here about a hole." The man says.

"Follow me." Asher replies before I can. I raise my eyebrows at him.

"I can show him," I challenge. "This is my house after all."

"Jane." Asher snaps. I roll my eyes but relent. I am not blind to the way the contractor has been looking me up and down, and I am grateful for Asher noticing as well, though I would never admit it. I'm surprised he actually cares.

Asher leads the man upstairs and I go into the kitchen to see if Clare needs any help. When I walk in, she already has two plates out with spaghetti on them and she is finishing cooking the chicken.

"Can I help?" I offer and she rolls her eyes.

"You can sit down and let me do my job for once." She says, half teasing.

"A little help never killed anyone." I sass her.

"Hey Jane?" Asher calls from upstairs. I walk up to see him standing in the doorway of my room with a guitar in his hand. "You play?"

"No, my brother does. Why, do you?" I ask him.

"Eh, a little." He responds and he blushes. Asher Wayland actually blushes and my heart swells.

"Could you play for me?" I ask him, speaking so quietly it's a miracle he hears me.

"I've never played for anyone before." He whispers back.

"That isn't a no." I walk into my room, opening the two glass doors leading to the balcony and take a seat on the hammock. A few minutes pass until Asher joins me, the guitar in his hand.

"I can't sing for shit, though." I laugh.

"Good, that would be too cheesy." He sits down on the hammock, propping one of his legs up so the curve of the guitar rests on it. He starts to strum a soft tune and I lay my head back and close my eyes. The crisp, post rain storm, spring breeze blows my hair back, and I feel perfectly at ease. My head rests on Asher, but he doesn't say anything so I don't move it. I barely notice when he stops playing, because I am nearly asleep.

"You're good." I mumble.

"So are you, Jane." He whispers. I feel something on my head, and it takes me a minute to realize it's his lips kissing my forehead. My mouth curves into a smile, and I feel his smile on my skin.

Sorry it is so late! I was sick last week and have been busy with make-up work. I hope you guys like this chapter, though! I'm going to try to post another one either tonight or tomorrow.

P.S When Asher is playing the guitar, he is playing "Hearts on Fire" by Passenger.