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It doesn’t escape me that she talks about her friends as if they are a part of her past. I paste a friendly smile on my face. “Well Brit, like I said, if you need anything at all, even just a friend, call me anytime.”
“Thank you, Pebbles.”
It could have just been a glare from her glasses, but I could swear she had a small tear in the corner of her eye before she turned towards Emery. “C’mon, Em. We gotta go, baby.”
“Okay, mommy.”
“Say thank you to Miss Heather.”
“Thank you for teaching me to dance, Miss Heather.”
“You are so welcome, sweet girl. I will see you on Friday!”
“Yay!” she squeals.
I wave behind them as Brit guides her daughter towards the parking lot.
I stop by room two and watch Clara through the glass opening as she teaches a group of middle school girls a hip-hop routine. My next class isn’t for another hour, so I make my way down the hall to my office. I find Trigger with his eyes closed, leaning back in my chair with his boots propped up on my desk.
“If you get any grease on my white desk, you’re buying me a new one.”
With his eyes still closed, Trigger’s face breaks into a smile. “I bought you this one, brat.”
“Hey!” I scoff. When his eyes meet mine, I can’t hold the annoyed expression and end up letting out a small laugh.
“Come here, baby,” Trigger says softly.
I pad across the room and stop next to his outstretched legs. He drops them to the floor and pats his thighs. I look at them with wide eyes.
“Uh, you better be joking.”
A look of confusion contorts his face. “Why would I be joking?”
“I’m as big as a house! I will break your legs!”
Trigger grabs ahold of my hips and pulls me down to sit across his legs. “I should spank your ass for that. You are not big.”
I rub my hands across my belly, rolling my eyes. “We must not be looking at the same thing.”
“I don’t have a clue what you’re looking at, but I’m looking at you.”
My eyes meet his and I melt at the expression and admiration I find in his eyes. Earlier today, I found myself starting to panic, thinking that his absence after his accident was because his feelings for me had changed. I thought maybe a near-death experience had made him rethink everything about us and decide that he didn’t want to be with me. Looking in his eyes now, I can tell that was just my anxiety lying to me. It’s something I know I need to work on with Sophia.
“What time are you done here?” he asks, rubbing the knots in my back with the base of his palm on his good hand.
He still favors his left side, which I don’t blame him for at all. Even two weeks later, the skin looks incredibly sensitive. His facial hair on the left side of his face has finally grown back enough to not look lopsided and covers the majority of his facial burn.
“Eight,” I say, ending in a moan when he hits a particularly tough knot.
He chuckles, working out the knot until I relax on his lap. “Want me to bring dinner over?”
“What are your plans?”
“Work on the Mustang and bring you dinner.”
I look down at his left arm. “Are you supposed to be doing that this soon?”
“It’s just a few scabs, Red. I’ll be fine,” he says dismissively and shrugs.
