by J. Daniels
I liked her just about as much as I liked Kali or the redheaded one who worked occasionally. They were all sweet, but Tori could be mouthy as fuck. If she had an opinion on something, she shared it, and it didn’t matter how many fucking times I told her I didn’t want her giving said opinion. She still gave it. Especially if it involved someone she cared about.
If it had to do with one of her girls, Tori was getting involved.
Well, fuck her suspicions. This wasn’t Tori’s business. It wasn’t J.R.’s business either. It was mine and Shayla’s. She was asking me to follow her, not them.
And everyone who wasn’t involved could butt the fuck out.
Scowling to convey that opinion, I watched Tori’s eyes narrow in challenge before I looked away, yanking the door open to the lounge.
I stepped inside and locked that shit behind me, and wouldn’t you know…
The door rattled, then a knock sounded with a heavy fist. “Shay!” Tori yelled, still yanking on the door. “You say the word, and I’m grabbing the ax we keep hidden and busting in there!”
Shayla finished shoving her coat in a locker before slowly turning her head, curiously looking from the door to me.
“Didn’t know if you wanted privacy or not,” I explained, gesturing at the lock before drawing my arms across my chest. “Your girl likes getting up in my shit, so…” I shrugged.
Nothing else more to say about that. Facts were facts.
Shayla’s mouth twitched before she hollered out, “I’m fine, Tori! And…I don’t think we have an ax, do we?”
I heard a growl through the door. “You aren’t supposed to tell him that. What’s the matter with you?”
“Shit. Sorry!” Shayla laughed.
“You’re good?”
“I’m good, T.”
“All right, well, I won’t be far, so if you need me, I’ll be sharpening that ax we absolutely do have. You just forgot about it.”
I glared at the door, then turned away when I heard the slam of a locker.
“We don’t really have an ax. She’s just playing,” Shayla told me, smiling a little as she tied on her waitress apron.
“And she wouldn’t really be gettin’ in here. Not unless you wanted her to,” I shot back.
Shayla blinked and stood taller, losing her smile but looking like what I’d just said meant something big and important to her, then she took a seat on the bench, opened the red folder in her lap, and glanced over at me like she was expecting something.
My brows furrowed. Expecting what? What did she want me to do? I’d followed her in here, didn’t I?
Shayla smiled, then patted the spot beside her.
Oh.
She wanted to talk. That’s why we were in here. But she didn’t just want to talk. She wanted to talk with us sitting close.
Not sure that was the best idea, but nobody was telling my feet that.
Huffing out a breath, I moved around the bench and sat down, leaving about an inch of space between our hips. I gripped my thighs, digging my fingers in so I wouldn’t move.
My muscles were locked stiff.
We had stood close outside but not this close. I wasn’t used to this. Even when Shayla would lean into that kitchen window and drop her voice, telling me something she didn’t want anyone else to hear, there was still a good amount of space there. And being surrounded by the food I was cooking, I had no fucking idea what she smelled like.
That was not the case now. I knew exactly what she smelled like.
Honey.
She smelled like sweet fucking honey. Her hair. Her skin. Both, I wasn’t sure. And no fucking way was I getting any closer to make that distinction.
“So, um, here’s their schedule,” she said, holding the folder between us so I could see the calendar she was pointing to. “Dominic, that’s the older one, has his tutoring today, like I said. It’s at his school. Um, Hyde County Middle…do you know where that is?”
I didn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. She’d worry I wouldn’t find it, and I’d find it.
I jerked my chin.
“Okay, great. His tutoring should be done around four-thirty, so if you could be there a little before, just in case he gets done early, and bring him to, uh…” She flipped the calendar over and read off the back. “Patterson Field. That’s where I’ll be with Eli for his practice. I have directions here, if you need them.”
I didn’t. I’d find it.
“You keep those. I got it.”
“It’s not going to be an issue with work? You can leave?”
I met her eyes when she pulled them off the paper, and noted the worry there. “With J.R. here, it ain’t a big deal. I can step out,” I said, squashing that worry.
“Okay.” She gave me a soft smile, one that felt fucking good to be on the receiving end of, then closed the folder and lowered it to her lap, suddenly looking uneasy. “I do have a concern,” she said. “About him going with you…”
I watched her tongue wet her lips before her teeth caught hold of the full bottom one.
“You don’t want him on a bike?” I asked, figuring this might’ve been the thing giving her discomfort.
Not that I had experience with parents or anyone giving a shit about safety, but Shayla seemed the type to give a shit. And this was her brother.
Her brows lifted. “No! No, that’s not it at all,” she said, shaking her head. “My dad rides…um, well, he used to ride. He can’t now. But we’ve all been on the back of his bike. We’re used to it.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“He doesn’t know you. And Dominic basically hates everyone right now, so I’m not sure how open he’ll be to this plan. He might refuse to leave with you.”
“He’ll leave with me,” I told her, standing then since I figured this was settled and I needed to be getting to work.
“I’m not so sure…”
“Worry about the other one. I’ll handle him.”
“Wait!”
I stopped halfway to the door and turned back.
“You don’t even know what he looks like,” she said, a soft giggle escaping her as she stood. “I can text you a picture of him, if you want to give me your number…” Shayla pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her uniform pants, and waited, holding it out to me.
Right. I did need to know what this kid looked like. And if something happened, I would need a way of getting in touch with Shayla.
Not that I was anticipating something happening, but I didn’t want to be shit out of luck if it did.
I walked back over, keeping her eyes, until I had to look away to take the phone.
“Wait. Here,” she said, punching in the four-digit passcode she didn’t even bother hiding from me. “Oh, I’m still in Snapchat. Let me just close that out.” She laughed under her breath. “You probably don’t even know what that is…”
My mouth twitched, then hardened immediately, because I’d forgotten what that felt like.
When the fuck was the last time I’d smiled?
“There you go,” she said, handing it over again.
Refocusing, I pulled up the keypad and typed in my number.
She took the phone back when I was finished, slowly dragging her fingers across mine, then held the phone against her chest and looked up at me, breathing slow and heavy.
I wasn’t breathing at all, just looking down into her face, at all of it, wondering if her mouth tasted like honey too, or if it was just her lips and the soft skin around them.
Yeah…Time to fucking get to work.
“Send me the picture and whatever else I need to know,” I ordered, getting to the door and sliding the lock over. “And quit worryin’.”
“Okay. Um, thank you! I really appreciate this!”
I walked out before I turned around again, saw the smile I knew she was wearing, and officially fucked myself. I was already well on my way without even looking back.
The door to the lounge swung shut behind m
e.
Tori paused whatever the fuck she was doing at the bar to kill time before she could get up in my shit, then proceeded to get up in my shit when her eyes slid from the closed door to me and narrowed.
Cursing, I cut a right and moved through the restaurant in the direction I had come, just as Tori made for the lounge.
“I’m watching you,” she hissed at my back.
“Yeah? Big fuckin’ surprise,” I bit out, turning the corner into the kitchen.
Jesus.
Knowing I had work to do, I pushed up the sleeves of my thermal and washed up at the sink, then I got the shit together I needed to make the daily special—crab cakes—and carried the ingredients over to the counter.
“Chicks. Am I right?” J.R. commented at my back.
I ignored him and kept at the crab cakes. I was working on my third when the lounge door swung open again.
Tori emerged first, eyes sparkling and mouth smiling at me in a way I’d never seen from her before as she moved quickly in my direction.
Looking past her, I watched Shayla step out of the lounge next.
She’d put on more makeup. Her eyes were black-lined again, and her lashes were darker. That was all I got to notice before Tori stopped in front of the window and leaned over the ledge, blocking my view.
“Those crab cakes look amazing, sweetie,” she commented. “Super yummy. I can’t wait to try one.”
I locked eyes with her, and when I did, that smile she was wearing became a grin, one of absolute beauty.
Tori had looks you’d have to be blind not to notice. She was a tall, blonde knockout, who had it even when she wasn’t smiling. Even when she was running her mouth, she fucking had it. But add the grin, and dickheads she’d wait on practically threw their wallets at her.
The grin I was getting was natural and came easy, I could tell. Just like the sweetie shit. Wasn’t the first time she’d used that on me. But the grin was also the kind you’d give a person you were appreciating. It held meaning.
Shayla had filled her in on what was going on and what I was offering to do. That was clear. And Tori was letting me know how she felt about all of it.
So that shit wasn’t private after all. Shayla was telling everyone, not just me.
Feeling like an asshole for thinking different, I glared at Tori.
Seeing that, a laugh burst out of her mouth. “Oh, my God,” she cackled. “I think you have more attitude than me, you know that?”
“Now that’s fuckin’ funny,” I muttered.
“Keep it up, Stitch. We all know you got a squishy little heart of gold under all that edge. You ain’t fooling us.” Tori winked at me before stepping away, leaving space for Shayla to slide in.
But she didn’t just stand in front of that window. Shayla hopped up onto that counter and leaned over that steel ledge, getting as close to me as she could get without actually climbing through that window.
Just like she used to.
“Yo,” she said, smiling, elbow propped on the ledge and chin resting in her hand.
I liked her sitting up there more than she’d ever know. I liked her cute little greeting too. Wasn’t sure why, but I did.
And liking everything I liked, I gave her my attention. Just like I used to.
Her lips were shiny now and peach colored, and she’d braided the front pieces of her hair and tucked those strands behind her ears.
I liked all of that too.
Focusing on Shayla’s smile and remembering Tori’s appreciating one, I quit listing shit in my head I liked and said what I needed to say. “You got her helping you now, or am I still doin’ it?” I asked.
If she’d rather Tori, then fuck it. Probably for the best anyway.
Shayla lost the smile and pushed off her hand, sitting back. “Uh, I didn’t…she’s not helping me. I just told her you are.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” she replied, no hesitation. “Unless you can’t now…”
I shook my head. “Didn’t say that. Just figured I’d ask since you told her what all’s goin’ on. That’s your girl. I’m sure she’d help you out.”
And maybe Tori should. It would keep me out of this.
“I didn’t tell her everything,” Shayla said. “Just that my nana passed away and I had some family stuff going on that was getting hectic, and you’d offered to help me out with it. That’s it. That’s all I said.”
“That’s all you said,” I repeated, disbelief heavy in my voice. “You didn’t go into specifics?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I…” She tilted her head, thinking on this. “I don’t know. I just didn’t.”
“You wanted me knowing and not her. Explain that.”
Shayla sat up taller and stared at me. “No.”
“No?”
“You’re offering to help me, but won’t tell me why. Explain that,” she countered.
I blinked. What the fuck? “That’s not what we’re talkin’ about.”
This was some brain ninja shit. Mind games. Well, fuck that. I wasn’t falling for it.
Shayla looked at her nails. “You explain, I’ll explain,” she mumbled.
I shook my head, then got back to work on forming the crab cakes, holding tight to my ground. No way was I revealing a damn thing. I’d sound like a fucking idiot.
“Maybe there’s just no way to explain something you don’t understand,” she whispered, seconds later.
It wasn’t just the volume of her voice that made me stop and lift my head again, it was the words she’d said, mainly to herself but also as an offering to me, for me to take and use as my own.
And I did. I took them, because she was right.
“Yeah,” I muttered, seeing understanding in her eyes, and something else. Relief, maybe.
“So, we leave it at that,” she suggested.
“Works for me.”
“Good.” Shayla smiled again, then slid off the counter and joined Tori over by the tables to distribute silverware.
“Dude. That’s the most I’ve heard you say. Like ever,” J.R. said, stepping up beside me and looking through the window. “You staking claim to that one? She’s cute. Like a little pixie you could carry around with you. She’d probably fit in your pocket. Pants pocket, you know what I’m…” His voice trailed off when he turned and met my glare, head tipping back since I stood taller than him. “You know, I think I’ll go ahead and wash some dishes. Or your bike. Whatever. I’m down for anything.”
“You down for shuttin’ the fuck up the rest of the day?”
“Normally I’d say no, but since you’re so chatty, I’ll give you the floor.” He slapped my back, grinning big before turning away and stepping up to the rack of dishes.
Chatty? I wasn’t fucking chatty.
I got back to work on the crab cakes, and the next time Shayla planted her ass on that counter again, I listened. I did not fucking chat.
That much.
Chapter Seven
Shayla
I had absolutely no idea what was going on.
Twice I’d checked to see if there was going to be a full moon tonight. There wasn’t. I’d also Googled weird weather occurrences that caused extreme atmospheric shifts, like The Day After Tomorrow kind of stuff, convinced something of biblical proportions was about to go down, and that was the explanation for Sean’s sudden change of heart.
No dice on that either.
I had zero explanation for why Sean was offering to help me out. I just knew he was, and I was grateful.
I also had zero explanation for why I was falling back into old habits I’d quit cold turkey when Sean made it clear how not interested he was in me.
Sitting up on that counter wasn’t something I did anymore. Neither was speaking to him, and I was doing both. Really well. Like we hadn’t had months of distance, and this was just what we did during our day-to-day.
We didn’t. We didn’t even have a day-to-day. There
was nothing routine about us. Not anymore.
But seeing as Sean was offering to help me out, had actually engaged me in conversation when he walked up to my car, and had said more words to me in one day than he’d ever spoken total in all of our past interactions, I thought, what the hell? The least I can do to show my appreciation is be friendly with the man.
I’d just ignore how good it felt showing that appreciation. Or I’d at least acknowledge how I should be ignoring it.
Maybe it was easier letting go and letting things happen. I wasn’t fighting Sean on his offer and forcing distance again. I was accepting it. Just like I was accepting the routine of us. Hopping up on that counter and speaking to Sean felt…natural. It was easy and comfortable when, at the moment, nothing else in my life was.
But if I kept wondering, if I kept trying to pick this apart, all of that could change.
Sean probably wasn’t struggling for understanding with all of this. So why should I? If he wanted to help me out, awesome. If I wanted to sit up on that counter and talk his ear off, great.
I wasn’t going to pick this apart anymore.
I was going with the flow.
“Woo! Go, Eli!” I cheered from the top of the bleachers, getting looks from both my brother and the parents surrounding me.
From Eli because he hadn’t done anything to warrant a cheer, unless you counted looking cute covering third base as cheer worthy, which I absolutely counted.
The looks from the other parents had to do with the same thing, I was sure, but I also had a feeling it was because I’d been cheering a lot during this practice, not needing an actual reason to, obviously, and I was standing out doing it, considering none of them had been rooting on their kids at all.
I was surrounded by crickets. It was weird.
Crickets who paid more attention to their phones.
Aside from taking a few pics of Eli and sending them to my mom, plus one short video of him up at bat, I hadn’t looked at my phone at all until it started ringing halfway through the practice.
Typically, I would’ve excused myself and stepped away so I wouldn’t disturb anyone, but since no one seemed engrossed in anything important, I stayed where I was after digging the device out of my pocket.
