But before I head for the doors, I hesitate.
I glance back at him. “Thanks for driving me today. I hope my car doesn’t need new tires. That would be expensive.”
“You won’t. Kids probably let the air out last night while we slept. A prank. But hey, at least I got to see where you are going to school. You sure Keysha’s picking you up? I don’t mind leaving work early.”
His voice dips when he says it, quietly protective.
“Oh! No, no. She promised to pick me up today. Thanks, though.”
I step forward.
I stop again.
“Do I look okay?” I turn to face him and fidget, pinching at my clothes as I survey myself.
His eyes roam down my body, then up again, unreadable. “You look like you.”
“That good or bad?”
He sighs, cups my cheek, and tucks a sleek honey-blonde strand behind my ear. “Charlotte, you really don’t need this fake hair. You were beautiful without it.”
My cheeks burn, but I reply softly, “I feel prettier with straight hair.”
Then, his fingertips pluck the neckline of my shirt, tugging it up to better cover my cleavage. “And you don’t need to show off your tits.”
I frown, my nervousness building. I wince, thinking of Meghan’s brutal insults. “So... I don’t look good?”
He crouches to meet my gaze head-on. “You’re gorgeous. You don’t need to try so hard. Just be you.”
I blink, and something aches in my chest. It’s like he sees me, the real me, yet still wants me.
But maybe he doesn’t see the real me. I fooled him somehow.
He spins me toward the entrance. His body brushes mine, solid and grounding. I lean back, needing him a second longer.
But he nudges me forward. “Go.”
“Oh! I forgot my lunch!”
He opens his wallet and pulls out some money. “Here. Buy lunch.” He glances at a nearby restaurant and points. “There. Mexican. You love tacos.”
I grin, bashful. “Thank you,” I whisper, and put the money in mybag.
But something nags at me. He shouldn’t have this much cash left. Not after bills. He’s been working overtime to keep the house from foreclosure, scraping by until payday.
Suddenly, Grayson kisses the top of my head, murmurs “Love you,” and gives me a bigger nudge forward, snapping me from my thoughts.
“Love you, too,” I squeak and nervously, I walk.
Just as I am about to enter through the glass doors, I look back. Across the parking lot, he stands by his truck and lifts his chin, then gestures for me to keep moving. I chuckle and give him a final wave.
He’s not just hot. He’s mine. He’s loving. And he’s making sure I don’t run from this opportunity. I just don’t know how I got so lucky.
Holy shit, that was hard.
I collapse onto the curb, completely exhausted from my first day. My back aches. My brain’s mush. Medical stuff is so damn technical. Nothing like working a register or folding novelty shirts.
Buzz, buzz.
