“Don’t take it personally. Brayden says he hates everyone, even him.”
That actually does make me feel better since Brayden is the golden boy.
“So, she’s working late again?” I ask once we’re in Reid’s truck.
He doesn’t look at me when he starts the vehicle. “Yep.”
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek again, noting that it’s getting sore, as I attempt to figure out what’s going on with her. Her texts are vague and overly positive. Since I haven’t seen much of her to get a good read, I’m not sure what to make of it.
Reid, a man of few words, drives in silence, one hand on the steering wheel and the other nervously tapping his jean-clad thigh. Is he hating that he’s my unofficial chauffeur and detention bondsman? I’d hate it if it were me. He has the patience of a saint.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say, voice cracking. “I feel bad you had to go through all this trouble.”
“It’s fine, Em. Sounds like the kid deserved to get his ass kicked.”
I love when he calls me Em.
A smile tugs at my lips. “He really did.”
The awkwardness fades away and then I tell him the good things about my day. One of my favorite makeup influencers followed me back. I pretty much freaked out and screamed when I got the notification. Even Savvy, who’s not exactly a social media queen, thought it was cool when I’d texted her. Reid, bless him, smiles in appreciation, though I’d bet he doesn’t even know what an influencer is.
You’re crushing on a dinosaur.
A sexy, muscular, delicious-smelling dinosaur.
How old is Reid anyway?
Maybe I’ll peek at his wallet one day while he’s sleeping. He always leaves it on the bar in the kitchen, fully trusting everyone in his home not to do him dirty.
Would Mom take advantage of him?
She’s not the “steal your credit card” type, but she does let him take care of everything. Like groceries for instance. I’ve never seen her buy any food for his house. Even when we stayed in the empty townhome, we never had anything in the cabinets and would always go over to Reid’s to eat.
Soon, I’m going to be able to help Reid out since Mom won’t.
“I have an interview,” I blurt out, unable to hold back the excitement.
We pull into the parking place in front of our home and Reid shuts off the truck.
“Interview?” He cants his head to the side, studying me. “For what? College?”
My elation at a possible job shrivels. Reid talks a lot about “when I go to college” and it’s starting to piss me off. It’s like he’s eager to get rid of me. How is he going to feel when I tell him I’m not going? I have other plans that don’t involve more stupid school.
“No,” I grumble. “A job.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “Why would you want to go and get oneof those?”
“To help out,” I say, pinning him with a knowing stare. “Since, you know…” Mom doesn’t.
“No.” He gives a sharp shake of his head. “You shouldn’t feel like you need to pitch in. You’re a child, not a roommate.”
I tug my phone out of my pocket, rip the phone case off to reveal my driver’s license, and hold it in front of his face. “What’s that date, huh?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, actually, I don’t,” I clip out, stuffing it back where it goes. “Maybe I want a job to just get out and experience new things.”
Hurt has begun to coil itself around my heart, squeezing to the point of pain. My obsession with this man always ends in heartache. He’s my mom’s man. Not mine. So why would I expect him to even care about what I want out of life? That’s not his role for me. Apparently, it’s caretaker and that’s it. Boring.
