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Casper sniffles, and I feel like a dick for bringing it up. Even though I know the best thing will be for her to talk about it. Sharing even a little bit will help.
“Two weeks ago. I’m only here now to pack all her stuff, donate it to charity or bring it home for my parents.”
“Why you?”
“I’m a teacher.” She sniffles again. “With school being out for the summer, I’m the only one who has time to do it. Everyone else has to work, and I can’t ask my mom to do it. Not alone.”
Casper has all the pieces of glass picked up, and I can’t hold it back anymore.
“Go out to dinner with me.”
She laughs—outright laughs at my proposition—but it doesn’t sound genuine. It sounds like she is a wounded animal struggling to breathe, and she is barely holding on.
“Thanks for your help, Cole.” She remembers my name. “But I have to get this done so I can get home. Back to my life.”
Casper doesn’t look back at me when she walks up the stairs and into the condo that I heard all the noise from. That doesn’t stop me from calling out before she closes the door, though.
“I’m gonna change your mind.” I smile when she looks at me with bright eyes.
“My father’s a cop and my brother is in the military,” she answers so quietly I almost miss it. “I’m used to dealing with stubborn men. You don’t stand a chance.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Challenge accepted.
Now I just have to figure out what the hell I’m going to do to convince a woman who has cried every time I’ve seen her to go on a date with me.
She can’t possibly be more broken than I am.
3
CASPER
The walls are vibrating, and music fills the bedroom through an open window. I’d like to say that I am the bigger person, that I roll over and go back to bed. That I don’t cause any drama or freak the hell out like I want to do.
It’s after one in the morning, and I’m exhausted from packing and sorting through all Cassie’s stuff.
So, while I wish that I were the type of person who would just drown out the noise, and the vibrations that I can practically feel down in my teeth, I’m not.
Instead of doing the mature and responsible thing, I’m not proud to admit that I do the exact opposite. I don’t regret any of my decision, either, until I realize I’m standing on the stoop of the condo next to mine in a robe and a pair of fuzzy pink slippers, looking like the old neighborhood crazy lady that we all used to make fun of behind her back as a kid. I’ve already rang the doorbell repeatedly, so I don’t think I can make a run for it before I get caught. Yet it’s something I’m seriously contemplating. Get away. Not get caught.
No. I shouldn’t. I should be responsible.
A minute passes without so much as a word from the other side of the door. However, music is still beating rhythmically through the walls, to the point that I can hear the chorus like I am inside the house.
“This is crazy.” Yep, I’m talking to myself now on top of everything else.
Suddenly, the absolute insanity of what I’m doing hits me. Standing outside a stranger’s house in the middle of the night. In the city. In my pajamas.
I’m not stupid.
I’ve always known that I don’t look like any sort of a threat. I’m about five feet tall and curvy. Not chunky. I’ve thrown erasers and pens at people who call me chunky.
I’m more likely to look like a lost teenager than an intimidating threat in the middle of the night on someone’s doorstep. While I am turning to flee in embarrassment, the music shuts off abruptly and the door opens behind me.
There is nothing else for me to do except freeze and act like whoever is behind me is a dinosaur. Dinosaurs can’t see you if you don’t move, according to my students and every single movie that has them trapped in parks until something goes horribly wrong and the dinosaurs start to eat everyone. Except, I’m a college-educated woman and I know that dinosaurs are extinct. Begrudgingly, I have to turn and face my mortification.
What the hell is going on? I can’t even keep my thoughts going in a coherent line.
