by Jodie Larson
After Carla, there hasn’t been anyone to spark my interest longer than a few nights. Until Kylie. Something about her speaks to me on a different level, one I want to explore. I know she’s holding back and it’s understandable. We’re strangers. It takes time to build something from the ground up. We need a solid foundation. Which means eventually I’ll have to let her know who I really am. Starting something on lies is grounds for failure.
Before I get too ahead of myself, I need to ask her out. And I’m working on a plan for that.
Kylie wasn’t working this morning, which is unfortunate because I’m in desperate need of caffeine and her smiling face. Last night did a number on me. Lizzie begged to stay out until close after Tatum and Myles showed up. I was kind of surprised they came, considering Tatum doesn’t like to go out clubbing while pregnant. Something about swollen ankles and paying for it in the morning. She still has a few months to go, but looking at her last night, you’d never know she wasn’t feeling well. Myles takes it as his built-in designated driver, so the three of us bellied up to the bar and mainlined shots of whiskey while the girls danced the night away.
After all these years, I should know better than to go shot for shot against Myles. I’ll lose every time. Hence, the headache this morning.
The girl behind the counter, Halle, did a decent job on my coffee, but it wasn’t the same. I was more interested in the company of the blonde who usually works behind the counter, not the raven-haired girl who greeted me in her place. Must be her day off.
With my paper cup in hand, I wander toward the beach, thankful my aviators keeping the sunlight at bay, along with my splitting headache. Though a dose of fresh ocean air may be the cure.
Various food trucks line the street, each turning my stomach in one direction then another. Some smell amazing. Others make me want to run in the opposite direction. A small line gathers at a mini-donut one and since they’re considered breakfast food, I join in. Nothing better than a little fried dough to soak up the remnants of last night.
With my stomach settled, I sit on the beach and relax, plugging my headphones into my phone and turn up “Devour” by Shinedown. Nothing like a strong beat to set my brain right. You’d think it’d be off-limits with a hangover, but after years of experience, it does the opposite of what you’d expect.
Song after song fills the void as I watch the beachgoers surf and play with their kids. A few girls glance and giggle my way. I give them an obligatory wave, enough to curb their curiosity. My stomach rumbles loud enough to disrupt the music. Time for food.
It’s my day to do the grocery shopping, so I walk over to the market by our condo and head up and down the aisles, mindful of what I put in my cart because I can only carry so much. I’ve always heard that you shouldn’t grocery shop when hungry. Now I know why. Way too much junk food fills the basket, shit I never buy but only want because it sounds good in the moment. I double back my steps, putting items away and replacing them with sensible things like apples and grapes. Damn Lizzie and her need for health food. Three months of living with us and she’s completely changed my diet.
I better sneak in some pizza rolls otherwise I may need to check my temperature when I get home if all I get are vegetables. I could be sick.
Standing in the cereal aisle—because no dinner is complete without Lucky Charms—my knees buckle as a cart runs straight into the side of my legs.
“Dude!” I turn to read the person the riot act but find a beautiful blonde who’s way too engrossed in her phone.
“I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz,” a familiar voice says.
Kylie finally looks up; her face turning from pink to tomato red as she realizes it’s me and not some stranger. Had it not been for her voice, I don’t think I would have recognized her. I’m used to her black polo shirt and khaki pants. This messy bun, sweatpants, and oversized t-shirt look she has going on is way better. More natural. Almost sexy.
“If you want my attention, there’s an easier route to go about it. And less painful.” I rub the sore spot on the side of my knee.
She opens, then shuts, then opens her mouth again. Apparently, the cat got her tongue.
“I, crap, Paxton, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t see you there.”
I laugh. “I know.” I point to her phone. “You know, there are laws against driving and texting.”
“That’s only on the road.”
“Perhaps they should extend that to grocery stores, too.”
Kylie laughs and shoves the phone into her purse. “Just had to verify my grocery list.” She glances at my cart and smirks. “You shop like you’re in college.”
“Huh?”
She points out the assorted items in the basket. “Grapes, bread, mustard, chicken, carrots, and Lucky Charms.”
“Hey, don’t forget the rice.”
“Oh, yes,” she says, clearly amused. “The most important thing. Are you on some fad diet?”
“Nah,” I say, leaning against the handle of the cart. “My roommates are into healthy things. Most of the stuff is for them. All I need is Lucky Charms to survive.”
Kylie laughs. “Or ramen.”
“Damn,” I exclaim, snapping my fingers. “I could use a few packs of those.” I start walking toward the edge of the aisle and look back expectantly at Kylie. “You coming or what?”
Confusion tugs at her brows, but she complies and follows me to the soup aisle, straight to the middle where an assortment of cheap Asian noodles is stacked in rows.
“What’s your favorite flavor?”
Kylie runs the tip of her finger along the underside of her full bottom lip, clearly in deep concentration. “The chicken one is a classic, but I do enjoy the shrimp flavor. Or you can get really bold and mix and match to create your own personal creation.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before.” I take her suggestion and drop two of each flavor into the cart.
She shrugs. “Not since college. It was something my friends and I would do when we ran out of money. Grab all the change we could find and buy all the ramen we could stomach. I think it’s the only food we ate for the entire month of December my freshman year.”
“Ah, the struggling college student diet. Very stereotypical of you.” I laugh, but her smile doesn’t quite meet her eyes. Something about the conversation has her on edge. Wanting to change the subject, I point across the store to the ice cream section. “Want to help me pick dessert?”
It’s an innocent request. Not like I’m asking what her favorite breakfast food is, although I wouldn’t mind knowing the answer. Best to steer clear of thoughts like those. Kylie is still shy around me, even though we’ve been shamelessly flirting with one another for a couple weeks now. Flirting and following through are two different things. I don’t want to scare her away. She’s interesting and someone I want to get to know better. Can’t say that about many girls these days. Of course, keeping my identity a secret feels wrong, but I need to make sure she’s interested in the real me, not the rock star me.
Kylie nods. “Um, sure?” Damn, she’s cute when she’s being shy.
I try to keep the personal questions at bay, sticking to safer subjects like her favorite TV show or what she does to unwind after a hard day.
“I’ve recently discovered hockey. It’s a very interesting sport.”
“Hockey, huh? How’d you get into that?”
She looks down and to the left. “A…friend suggested we watch it together. After one game, I was hooked.”
I pause, hand suspended in the air before opening the freezer door. “And?”
Kylie tilts her head. “And, what?”
Giving a smirk, I open the door and grab a pint of Chunky Monkey, along with AmeriCone Dream. “Now you’re a lover of all things bloody and fighty?”
She shakes her head and laughs. “The game I watched hardly had any fighting. I was so disappointed.” I open my mouth, but she holds up a hand to stop me. “The next game had a bit more action. N
othing major, no blood was spilled or anything like that, but the refs had to come between them. I’m still trying to figure out the whole logistics of the sport, but so far I’m enjoying it.”
Lucky for her, I love hockey. “Maybe we can watch a game together.”
Hopefully she doesn’t think I’m overstepping some imaginary line with my suggestion. She has walls built up around her. Anyone can see that. But the more I’m with her, the more I want to know her. Logically, doing something outside of the coffee shop feels natural. And it’s an innocent enough request.
“It doesn’t have to be at my place or yours. We can go to a bar and watch so there are other people around.”
Worry lines carve out her forehead as she chews on her bottom lip. “I—I don’t really date.”
I try to ease her mind. “Never said it was. Just two friends going out for a drink and watch guys beat the shit out of each other. Hardly what I call date material.” I wink, hoping it’ll calm her fears.
It works because the light comes back to her eyes. “I can’t right now, but how about a raincheck?”
I nod. “Whenever you’re ready, let me know.”
We stand in comfortable silence. I’m thankful she didn’t outright reject me. It wasn’t a no, but not a yes either. I’ll take her however I can get her.
Kylie hooks her thumb over her shoulder. “I gotta finish the rest of my shopping. Enjoy your ramen and ice cream.” With a final look over her shoulder, she disappears down the aisle and out of sight.
I don’t think I imagined it, but I’m pretty sure she put a little wiggle in her step as she walked away.
Yeah, sweatpants are definitely sexy.
“What are you doing for your birthday?” Lila asks, tying the apron around her waist. The other half of the dream team. Katie and Lila hardly do anything without the other. I swear they could be conjoined twins if they weren’t polar opposites of each other. Katie with her thick red hair and Lila with her crazy colors. Lavender is the flavor of the month. Something I could never do.
I put away the last of the glasses and wipe my hands with a towel. “Nothing. Why?”
Katie pokes her head out from the kitchen area. “Not nothing, that’s for sure.”
“You shush up back there,” I say, pointing my finger at her. She replies by sticking her tongue out and ducking back to finish prepping the pastries for tomorrow.
Katie and Lila like to party. No, love to party. I’m surprised they work at all. They should be party professionals. Is there such a job out there? Get paid to attend parties? Like a secret shopper? If not, they should create something like that for them. They’d be rich in a heartbeat.
Lila places her hand on my shoulder. “We really should celebrate. You never come out when we ask. You’re turning twenty-seven and you have the social life of an eighty-year-old. Actually, probably not even that because they at least go to bingo.” She snickers at her joke.
“Funny,” I say, dryly. “You know I can’t go out like you guys.”
She wipes off the counter and leans against it with her hip. “I’m not saying you need to be exactly like us. God knows you’re way too good for that.”
“Word,” Katie yells from the back.
Lila rolls her eyes. “But you’re not dead either. One night is all we’re asking. You’ll have fun and remember what it’s like to be a woman and not a mom. Everyone needs that, even the supermoms.”
Seeing as my own mother has suggested it more than once, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take them up on their offer. “Fine.”
I didn’t think Lila could smile any brighter if she tried. “Katie! She said yes!”
“About damn time,” is all we hear. Thank God no one is in the shop right now. Then again, we wouldn’t be having this conversation either.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t make me regret this.”
Lila scoffs. “Please. We never regret anything.”
“Perhaps you should.”
She hooks her arm through mine and drags me back to the kitchen. “Stop being a mom.” Katie looks up from the dough she’s wrestling with, flour dotting her face in various spots. “We’ll do dinner first then the club.”
“I feel like I should be afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid,” they say in unison.
Now I really am.
Lila laughs and leans against the counter. “Jenny told us you spend way too much time at home. We’re going to fix that for one night.”
Ugh, Jenny. Figures she’s behind this. I don’t know why she’s obsessed with me dating all of the time. I have more pressing matters to attend, like my son and getting a degree so I can quit this job and find something better.
“Okay, if we’re going to do this, there will be ground rules.” I hold up my hand and tick off the points one by one. “First, nothing crazy. I’m not doing body shots or whatever else you two do when you go out.”
“Highly unlikely. The last time that happened we got kicked out of the bar.” The fact Katie says it so seriously should be comical. It’s not normal. At all.
“Second, this will not be a race to see who can finish a bottle of tequila first. I’ll drink at my own pace.”
Lila scrunches her nose. “Ew, tequila. Not our drink of choice either. Now rum or vodka, that could be a different story.”
“No,” I say, sharply enough so they get the point. “Third, nothing too wild. And don’t expect me to go home with a stranger.”
Katie raises a brow. “Let’s keep that one a soft limit. We’ll see where the night takes us.”
Which scares me the most. Those two have no fear, though I should be fine if they’ve survived as long as they have without repercussions.
“I’ll keep an open mind.”
Lila hugs me tight. “You need this. Trust me.”
The bell jingles and I leave the two in the kitchen, plotting my demise. As I round the corner, I fix my hair and look up to find Paxton standing at the counter, looking relaxed and completely out of my league.
“Hey,” I say, my voice cracking at the end.
He smiles and leans a hand against the counter. “I had an idea. How about we grab some lunch together? Or are you not allowed to leave? Because then I’ll adjust my plan and find a food truck to grab some takeout.”
“Don’t like my scones?” I say with a laugh.
A sly smile crosses his lips. “Are you offering?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Not really.”
“That’s not a no.”
“It’s not a yes, either.”
Pax leans closer, letting his cologne waft through the air between us. Something woodsy and manly, dark and sensual.
“Are you sure?”
I swallow hard, the act proving more difficult than it should be. “No?”
Another smirk sends a chill up my spine. What is it about this man that causes a reaction like this?
I need to act my age, not like some crazed teen getting attention from their crush. Women in their twenties don’t act like this. Then again, I don’t think most women have seen a man like Paxton. I’m positive he could make Jell-O melt.
“Okay, in all seriousness though, I’m starving, and I want to do lunch with you. Are you able to sneak away?”
Technically, I’m done with work in five minutes. Lila was my replacement and since Katie is working the mid-shift, it should be fine to go. Any rush that comes in, they’d be able to handle.
“I have a few minutes before my class, so sure. Why not.”
Paxton acts like he just won the lottery, grinning from ear to ear while giving the counter a couple raps with his knuckles. “Perfect. I’ll wait.” He walks over to a table near the door, his back turned to the window. Odd. Most people like to stare out the window. Pax wants to hide in plain view.
Before I even get to the employee door, Katie and Lila are waiting for me. “Who is that guy? He’s hot.”
“Insanely hot,” Lila adds.
“Inhumanly hot.” Katie tries to l
ook over my shoulder, ducking up and down to get the best angle. “I’ve seen him here before. Only when you’re here, though. Strange.”
Lila bounces on her tiptoes. “Do you have your own stalker?”
I roll my eyes and shove my apron in my oversized bag. “Hardly. He’s a customer that comes in regularly. What’s the big deal?”
Katie nods toward Paxton, who’s playing on his phone. The usual hat is pulled low with his sunglasses resting on the brim. “You talked to him for a grand total of three minutes, he’s obviously waiting for you and never ordered anything. What’s your plan?”
I sigh and retreat to the back corner of the room, pulling my work shirt off and digging to the bottom of my bag to pull out the black fitted t-shirt I keep in there for emergencies. “Nothing. We both happen to be hungry and we’re agreeing to walk to a commonplace nearby and eat something in the general vicinity together.”
“So a date,” Lila says it so matter-of-factly, it takes me a second to process her words.
“Not a date.”
Katie stands in front of me, fluffing my hair until I smack her away. “You’re eating food together. It’s a date.”
I take a deep breath and shove my work shirt into my bag before clocking out of the system. Turning on my heels, I face the two troublemakers and point my finger at them.
“Not a date.”
I don’t make it ten feet from the open door before I hear their voices ring through the empty shop.
“Date!”
Fucking kill me now.
Paxton looks up, clearly amused by my two pain-in-the-ass friends. “Were you talking about me back there?”
“Nope,” I say, opening the door and quickly leaving before Katie and Lila decide to say anything else. Pax follows hot on my heels, shoving his hands into his pockets as we walk side by side down the street. I have no idea what his plans are, where he wants to go. Decision making is not my strong suit. I tend to leave that to more put-together individuals. Someone with a purpose. Or a fully functioning brain. Most days, I’m a hot mess and thankful I know my name.
