Page 27
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, my chin quivering as moisture streaks down my cheeks. “It’s been a rough few days.”
“Tell me what happened,” he says, easing the case from my fingers and setting it on top of my car.
I burrow my face in his chest, finally giving in.
“I lost my jobs. My best friend doesn’t live in Texas. I’ve never been to the beach even though that’s why I moved here. And then I had this brilliant idea to put all your money in a briefcase. It felt fun, but also important to return it to you that way. I know you have a gazillion dollars, so it doesn’t matter to you, but I cared.” A hiccup briefly interrupts me. “I had no idea all that money would fit in a single envelope. Five grand is just pinging around in that case like a pinball.”
A strange noise puffs out of him as Shane’s hand cradles the back of my neck.
Wait. That wasn’t…
Was that a stifled laugh?
“If you care about something, then it matters,” he says, giving my neck a gentle squeeze. “You lost your other jobs?”
I nod, breathing in his calming scent. If I pinch my eyes tightly, I can imagine I’m in a forest with ample insulin, a fat bank account, and all the time in the world to paint.
“You should have kept the money. You need it.”
“I’ve already explained this,” I tell him. “I didn’t earn it, so I can’t keep it. It doesn’t matter that everything is ridiculously expensive without insurance.”
Shane’s fingers still in my hair. When had they slid up to massage my scalp? And why does it feel better than finding the exact shade of chartreuse after trying to mix it for days?
“You don’t have health insurance?”
When I lean back to catch his gaze, the arm around my back tightens. “Might I remind you that, until recently, I was an otherwise healthy person.”
“Willow.”
An annoyed huff leaves my mouth. “Don’t lecture me. I’m already having a terrible day.”
Shane surveys my face for two heartbeats before pulling me back to his chest. “Okay, honey.”
Something about the casual endearment melts the tension in my shoulders. Shane holds me for several long moments, his callused fingers rubbing my back, before he clears his throat.
“I asked around to see if there were any part-time jobs available with the team, to make up for the one I cost you. There weren’t any, but maybe there’s a full-time opening.”
“You did?”
Shane avoids my gaze as his jaw flexes, warring with something. “Yeah.”
“That was really sweet of you, but you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
His eyes snap to mine. “I don’t?”
A sad smile lifts my lips. “You’re finally getting your wish.”
“What wish?”
“To never see me again. I’m moving back home.”
Shane blinks, something in his expression shuddering.
And am I hallucinating or did he just tug me closer?
“You’re leaving?”
I’m confused by the broken quality of his question, by why he’s suddenly breathing like air is in short supply.
