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“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“You won’t tell me your name.” He shrugs.
“You called me that before you ever asked my name…” I folded my arms across my chest, aiming for a serious stance. “Tell me.”
“I guess that will be my little secret until you tell me your real name,” he counters. Touché.
“Guess we’ll both be disappointed then.” I shrug, feigning indifference.
“Yeah. I guess we will.” He tilts his head, smiling at me with that lopsided grin that’s driving me crazy. He makes my head spin.
“I need to shower and leave in time to run to the store before my shift so…” I shuffle from foot to foot. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
“Do you want to?” He folds his arms across his chest, looking at me pointedly. It’s too much, my heart is racing out of my chest.
He has no idea what he’s doing to me, or how overwhelmed I am with each interaction. This is probably just another day for him and I am having a mental crisis. I want him to like me, but I don’t. I can’t.
I still haven’t answered him and the warmth is creeping up my chest. My workout tank is not going to hide my nerves and I desperately wish I had something to hide behind. A sweatshirt, anything.
“I’m sorry. You don’t need to answer that,” he cuts through my racing thoughts, saving me from my inner turmoil.
“No, I’m sorry. My brain is scattered. I appreciate all you’ve done for me and showing up to do this.” I gesture to the door. “I’m not sure if I have cash.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s not my style. I will worry.” I laugh at myself but he doesn’t.
“You need me to swing by the store for you? So you aren’t late for work?” The question surprises me, just as much as every other thoughtful thing he’s said and offered to do.
“Um no. Thank you though. I need to um… Replace all of my underwear… So…” I stammer, feeling too awkward to even look him in the eye while I explain my panty dilemma.
“Ah.” That single-syllable response… It makes me want to burst.
“I felt gross even touching them to throw them away. I couldn’t stomach washing them and then putting them back on and pretending like nothing happened. So, everything he touched went into the trash. Now, I’m pantyless,” I blab, immediately regretting it.
Especially when he glances for a microsecond at the bottom half of my body. Oh my God. I just admitted to going commando.
“I’m sorry. That was too much information. I’ve gotta go.” I bound past him, trying to get inside before blabbing any more dirty secrets. I slam the door without looking back and sink to the floor. What is wrong with me?
* * *
Halfway through my shift, I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t believe he went out of his way to fix my door for me. He slept in front of my house because he was worried… It blows my mind.
How am I supposed to pretend that I don’t like him if he keeps doing thoughtful things?
Would it be the worst thing in the world for me to keep seeing him? Selfishly, yes. I could only ever be friends with him, but being around him in any capacity would be better than nothing. Right?
The thoughts in my mind are all-consuming as I power through my tasks. I’m positive that I mixed up books when I was re-shelving returns, but I was too spaced out to recall where I put them.
Should I reach out to him? I saved his number. Maybe talking to him more will ease the other possibilities in my head. I’ll keep it friendly. If he ghosts me then it will confirm that I am delusional and should never have had a crush on him in the first place.
Me: Thank you again for getting the new lock. I’ll sleep better tonight knowing Kyle can’t get in.
Jay: No problem, Sunshine. I want you to feel safe.
Okay, I should not have texted him. It only made the knot in my stomach worse. I know that I’ve read too many historical romances because every time he uses that nickname, I feel like a mid-century woman about to swoon.
I don’t know what else to say so I pocket my phone and promise myself I’ll ignore it until I get home. I need to focus on work.
