Page 53 of Shooter (Burnout 1)


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“But…it still kind of hurt my feelings to think that he thought I wasn’t good enough. I don’t know why I asked him. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d actually said I was beneath him. It’s not like I don’t know it. I mean, I may not be his type because he’s…into stuff. But I’m also not his type because I’m not good enough. I used to be good enough for a guy like Tex. Now I’m not. It still pisses me off sometimes.”

“Hayley-” Chris began but she cut him off.

“And that’s another thought that should’ve stayed in my head where it belonged. I didn’t mean to dump a bunch of shit on you. Sorry.” She sighed again. “I gotta go. Money’s on the table. For the rest of this month and next month, too. To give you time to find another tenant.”

Chris still didn’t let go of her hand. “Slick-”

“You don’t like me, Chris. Maybe you think you do. Or maybe you’re one of those guys who nails everything in a hundred foot radius and it irritates you that we’ll never…whatever.”

“I didn’t say I liked you,” he said abruptly.

She flinched. “So you don’t. Then why…”

“I didn’t say I liked you. I didn’t say I didn’t like you. All I said was I don’t like you thinking about my guys. They are not serious guys, but you are a serious girl.”

“No,” she protested, “I’m not looking for-”

He squeezed her hand. “But if you were looking, you are not a casual girl. I may not know much about you, Hayley, but I know that you don’t do casual.”

She chewed her lip again. “I can’t do anything,” she admitted.

“Okay. So you don’t need to get twisted up with one of my guys. Because they’re good guys, really good guys, but they are not serious. Only Tex would be open to settling down and we’ve already established that you are not capable of giving him what he wants.” He grinned. “Slick, you couldn’t call a man ‘Sir’ if your life depended on it.”

Hayley pushed her hair out of her eyes with her free hand. “Maybe I could. I know I definitely do not have bedroom sass. Whatever that is, I don’t have it.”

Chris smiled. “You will. Someday. And when you did, Tex would paddle you for it every night and you’d never sit down again.”

Hayley grimaced. “Ouch. Yeah, maybe not.” She paused, looking up at the sky. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got too much in my head. I’ll stick to my books. They’re safe. No paddling allowed.”

“That’s not a life, Slick.”

“Yes it is,” she said firmly. “It is a life, Chris. May not be a perfect one, but it is a life. And I’m grateful to have it, such as it is.”

Chris suddenly leaned over and planted a kiss on the side of her head. “Stay,” he said quietly. “At least for a little longer. You have friends. A job. Good place to live. A stove.”

She smiled and leaned into him. “You just want Sunday lunch.”

“Mmmm. And Thursday dessert. And maybe one other night, you know, if you’re feeling bad about me being forced to eat cat food due to my lack of culinary skills.”

She snorted. “That’s ridiculous, Chris. Ramen noodles are much cheaper than cat food. And besides, you probably have a garage full of MRE’s. Chow down on those if you get hungry. I promise the Zombie Apocalypse is still a few years away. You have time to re-stock.”

Chris laughed and put his arm around her neck, with his other hand he messed up her hair. “You have way too much regular sass!” She squealed and ducked out of his hold. “I need those MRE’s in case of a nuclear war.”

“Or Zombies.”

“Or Zombies,” he amended.

“So you do have them.”

“No comment.” She giggled. He rolled his eyes. “Okay, yes, but more for bad winter storms and long power outages. Both of which are not unheard of this far north. And that’s only after the chips and beer run out. Because, trust me, you don’t eat MRE’s unless it’s Armageddon.”

“Hmm. I think I’m in trouble if any of those things happen. No peach pie, no chocolate cake, no cookies. If I’m lucky, I’d remember to fill up the bathtub with water. But then I would forget what it’s for and bathe in it.”

“Jesus.”

“Hey, I’m a girl. We take baths very seriously! I could live without cookies and cake and pie, but I need bubbles, Mister!”

“Women.”

“Some people go to Church, I take baths. It’s a holy experience.”

“That only happens once a week? That explains the smell.”

“Hey!”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything. You brought it up!” he argued, grinning.

“I bathe more than once a week!”

“I know. I pay your water bill.” She stiffened and leaned away from him. “Shit,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean anything, Hayley.”

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