But who was I kidding? She'd been acting strange evenbeforeRyder had opened his mouth.
This only left one possibility.She was disgusted by the place.Sure, it was a dump, but when our gazes met, something in her eyes said,"A dump is where you belong."
I couldn't help but think of my own childhood. The trailer park had been maybe ten minutes away from a fairly decent lake – a lake with waterfront homes containing kids with a lot more money than I figuredIwould ever see.
Some of them – sure, not all – hadn't let me forget it either. At the memory, heat rose in my chest, but I let it burn cold. Unless I was reading everything wrong, the look on Maisie's face wasn't so different.
Fine.Let her look.
I wasn't ashamed.Not then. Not now.
Those fuckers could kiss my ass – which, come to think of it, plenty of them did – both before andaftergraduation.And during the last decade?Let's just say, my ass received a lot more kissing than I liked.
Me – I liked people who were real – not fair-weathered suck-ups who thought that somebody's worth was tied to nothing but money in the bank.
But that wasn't Maisie.She was different.
Or at least, shehadbeen different.
Until today.
I was still trying to make sense of it when she bolted for the door. She didn't look back. And she didn't pause, not even when I called out her name.
After the door slammed shut, a silence fell, good and hard, broken only by the sounds of her footsteps on the rickety stairs. And then, there was nothing.
I might've gone after her – and hell, maybe I should have – if it weren't for Ryder, who'd surely get off on a dramatic show.
I mean, hey, he was always good for a laugh.
Except when I turned to face him, he looked more sickened than amused. His gaze drifted to the balcony, and he gave me a halfhearted smile. "So, do you wanna toss menow?Or should I just toss myself?"
It felt like an olive branch, but I was in no mood to take it. Instead, I strode to the nearest window and looked out just in time to see Maisie pedaling away so fast, you'd think she was being chased by wolves.
From behind me, Ryder said, "Shit. Hey man, I'm really sorry."
"Don't be." I almost choked on the words. "It wasn't you." I turned to face him and tried for a grin. "You want the truth? I'm pretty sure it was me."
54
Grapes, Wrath, and Maybe Sierra
Maisie
By the end of the workday, I felt ready to pop.
Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since my ill-fated visit to Griff's apartment, and the day had been gloomy to match – drizzly and dark with storm clouds on the horizon.
Did I have regrets?Sure. I mean, if I'd been a little more composed, I would've stuck around to ask Griff exactly where he'd slept the previous night.
Of course, asking would've been beyond awkward – with or without an audience, especially when I got to the part about eavesdropping from the balcony.
The whole thing was a giant mess, and I had no clue how to fix it, assuming it was fixable at all. After all, if Griff had spent the night with somebody else, there was nothing worth fixing.
Sure, we had never agreed to be exclusive, but it still felt like cheating, even if things were never spelled out.
So now, here I was, manning the front counter, with my mind on everything but the shop.
Business was slow, but my heart was racing. From somewhere in the back room, I heard a clunk, like Griff had dropped a tool or walloped a bike. Soon, I heard more clunks, followed by a high-pitched squeak – metal on metal, dry and rhythmic.
