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Tugging me by the beltloop of my jeans, she pulls me close, our bodies pressed together, and whispers, “Save it for later. When we’re alone.”
Fuck.I think I’m in love.
The change clangs against the counter, all twenty-three cents of it. She slides it into the palm of her hand, skipping the tip jar, before taking the bean can from the counter and walking to the door.
Just outside, the door closes, and I say, “I take it you’re not friends with that guy?”
She bursts out laughing as we clear ourselves away from the entrance. Eyeing me, she grins. “Can’t say we are.”
I shove my free hand in my pocket and look at her as if I’m seeing someone entirely different than the girl inside the convenience store. “It’s too bad you have to deal with shit like that.”
“Part of being a girl.” She tries to shrug it off like it was nothing. It was something and made me want to punch his fucking face.
Although I have no doubt she can take care of herself, a vulnerability entangled in her strength causes my chest to tighten. “He was out of line,” I say, keeping my voice low between us.
“It is what it is.” She starts to back away. “Enjoy the soda.”
The soda reminds me of Marina, who’s sitting in the car waiting on me. I can barely make out her silhouette behind the tinted window, but I’m really hoping she can’t make me out at all, or I’ll be hearing about this over the dinner table at every major holiday meal and then some.
“Hey,” I say just to the beauty in front of me. “I owe you for the soda.”
“My treat.” Her shoulders pop up and then down before I’m met with her back as she nears the corner of the building.
I don’t go after her, but I make a last-ditch effort. “For real, let me give you some money.”
Glancing back over her shoulder, she shakes her head. “It’s a soda. It’s no big deal.”
“But . . .”
“Really. It’s okay,” she replies, stopping under the awning of the sketchy gas station. Even the potent smell of gasoline and oil slicks on the ground don’t make her any less pretty.
Stepping out on a limb, I close the gap by half, leaving enough distance for her to make her own decisions. “Okay, no money, but what about dinner sometime?”
The corners of her lips slope just high enough to back her entertainment, but her eyes reveal a gleam of interest in the way they shine for me. My breath gets caught somewhere between telling her she’s gorgeous and reminding her to steer clear of the trouble I bring.
“You don’t even know my name, and you’re asking me out?” There’s no offense to her tone or in her stance by how relaxed she appears.
I should probably take the opportunity she’s giving me to prove I’m not a total asshole. Holding out my hand, I say, “People who know me call me Harbor. You can do the same.”
She comes a little closer, the heat of her proximity reaching me. As she slips her hand against mine, her chest rises as her lips part. “Are we friends now, Harbor?”
Since not one PG image crosses my thoughts, friends aren’t what I had in mind. I’m not friends with anyone these days, but she might be worth making an exception. “It depends.”
I’m not sure why my directness puts her at ease, but her smile reveals only intrigue. She should probably run, get away from me as fast as she can without giving me a second thought. “Depends on what?”
“What happens next.”
She laughs, rocking back on her heels. “I have to go, so I guess we’ll leave it to the fates to decide.”
While the distance we had just closed widens, I throw my arms out wide. “You’re not going to tell me your name?” In a class of almost two-hundred students, her name is one of the few things I’ve not caught. I was hoping to remedy that.
The afternoon sun shines on her. “Isn’t it more fun this way?”
“Fun is subjective.” I watch as she turns around, her shoulders rattling with laughter. “But I’ll play along.”Helps that I know I’ll see her in class.
Glancing back, she says, “I had no doubt you would.”
“Do you ever have doubts?”
