This Is No Date
I wiggled my head, still astonished at how he had managed to waffle his way over here.
"This is not a date."
He cut me a scandalized look. "Obviously. I'd bring Count Chocula for that."
"I am serious. Not a date," I defended.
"Yeah, yeah. I get it." He set the stuff on the counter and turned to me.
"So, where is it? Let's get this started."
I puffed out, uneasily soothed by his matter-of-fact expression.
No flirting, no overt come-ons. Just sincere, generous helpfulness. I had get the shelf built, and then he would be gone.
We tore into the huge box, dumping out flexible shelves and panels, as well as a collection of bolts and screws.
The paths were short on words, mainly comprising some cryptic charts with arrows pointing to where certain parts went. After minutes of examination, we finally agreed on the large backboard was the place to start, laying it flat on the floor with the racks and walls placed on top.