Chapter 6
Chapter Six
" Y ou okay, honey?"
I blinked up at my mom, spoon halfway to my mouth.
"Yeah," I said cautiously, not liking her concerned tone. "Why?"
She nodded to the utensil in my hand. The spoon was empty. I was about to take a mouthful of air.
I lowered it back to the cereal bowl.
"I'm just a little tired," I said. "Didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
"You went to that author signing at the library, right?" my mom asked as she poured me a glass of orange juice. "I wouldn't think it would go on so late. Did you have fun?"
"It was great," I lied. "I went out with some people for coffee afterwards. I had a good time."
The dull ache in my thighs betrayed that lie. I'd had way more than just a good time. I'd had one of the best nights of my life.
"I'm glad, honey," my mom said. "You deserve to have some fun." She sat down across from me at the kitchen table with her own bowl of cereal. "Do you think you'll see him again?"
My spoon clattered against the table.
"What?" I squeaked.
"The boy who told you about the event," she said. I remembered the half-truth I'd told my mom. "Do you think you'll see him around the hospital?"
A flutter of panic gripped my chest just as tight as I gripped my spoon.
Crap. I hadn't thought of that.
Nathan Walker was rich, famous, a celebrity. I'd never expected to see him again.
But he'd been visiting someone at the hospital. There was a chance, if his friend was still there, he'd be back to visit.
"You should thank him for telling you about that author signing," my mom said. "It sounds like you had a nice time."
I nearly choked on my tongue.
"Yeah, it was nice all right." I pushed back abruptly from the table and stood. "I've got to run if I don't want to be late for my shift."
"Take it easy today, okay?" my mom said. "If you had a late night, you don't want to overdo it."
Nodding silently and trying to push down the twinge of annoyance rising in my chest, I washed my bowl and spoon in the sink, then headed downstairs to my bedroom.
I technically lived in my own studio apartment, but the door separating the main house from the downstairs was always kept unlocked so I could come and go as pleased. I ate most meals with my family and often raided their fridge, but that one door kept up the polite fiction that I was an independent adult living on my own. It was the closest compromise my parents and I could come up with. At least I had my own private entrance.
As I got ready for work, I cleaned up random pieces of clothes and papers and candy wrappers. My place wasn't a complete mess, but compared to Nathan's tidy apartment, it was a disaster zone.
Nathan. It had been less than twelve hours since I'd walked out on him. I wondered how he felt about that. He might have felt slighted or upset. Or maybe he'd simply shrugged and rolled over to go to sleep.
I didn't know which bothered me more.
I shoved those thoughts aside, laced my sneakers, and headed to work.
When I got to the pet shop I nodded to my coworker, busy at the register, and put on my store-branded apron. No sooner had I tied the strings behind my back than I was approached by an older woman with short, bright purple hair carrying a small corgi in her arms.
"Excuse me, miss?"
"Yes, how can I help you?" I replied in my cheerful, polite customer-service voice.
"What would you recommend for dental bones?" the woman asked.
She peppered me with questions about the various kinds of dog toys we had available. It was almost enough to distract me from my thoughts. But even as I talked her through the various options, I couldn't help but wonder.
I'd had a really fun night, even before the sex. Bantering before the concert, flirting at the club, grinding against each other on the dance floor…
Had Nathan enjoyed himself as much as I had?
"Thank you, dear," the woman finally said. Her basket was overflowing with dog toys and treats. "Where do I check out?"
I guided her to the cash register. Too bad I didn't make commission. That would have been a nice chunk of change.
I worked steadily all day, with barely enough time to say a word to my coworker. The store was near closing when the last customer left. As the employee responsible for the closing shift, I did my usual routine of putting away items left lying around in the wrong places. I was so focused on trying to put back a large box on the top shelf that I didn't hear the bells jingling at the doors to signal someone entering.
"Let me help with that." A man's hand took the box from mine and set it carefully on the shelf.
"Thank you," I said as I turned. "I appreciate it?—"
I stopped mid-sentence.
Nathan Walker's face was three inches away from mine. His handsome, flawless face. I stared at him. The world turned fuzzy. His dark blue eyes sparkled, almost dazzling me.
I blinked, my gaze focusing again.
"Hey," I said numbly.
"Hey," he replied with a wicked curve to his lips.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Shopping."
I'd mentally prepared myself to perhaps run into him some time in the future at the hospital. I hadn't been mentally prepared to run into him less than a day after he'd screwed my brains out.
"Are you stalking me?" I blurted.
That curve spread from ear to ear. "Would you like that?"
I took a step back. I bumped into the shelves, making them wobble dangerously. He put a hand out to steady them. I thought maybe he'd say something to knock me even more off balance, but he didn't.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not a stalker. I'm just taking care of my mom's place while she's away and this is the closest pet shop."
I was torn between disappointment and relief. As flattering as it would have been to have someone like Nathan Walker try to track me down, to hear that he'd wanted to see me again after the night we'd spent together, I knew nothing good could possibly come of that.
"I'm looking for cat stuff," he continued. "Maybe you can help me out?"
"Cat stuff?" I repeated.
"Food. Chew toys or whatever. Those rocks that go into a litter box." He shrugged. "You know. Cat stuff."
It didn't matter that his beautiful eyes were as blue as the depths of the ocean, or that his smile was enough to make my knees weak. It didn't matter that I had the sudden urge to pull him into the backroom and have my way with him again. I had a customer to take care of.
And said customer wanted cat stuff. Like rocks.
"Are you a new pet owner?" I half-dreaded his answer. I hated when people bought pets before doing any research. It seemed like the kind of impulsive, irresponsible thing someone like Nathan might do.
"No. It's my mom's cat. Why?"
"It just seems like you don't know a lot about cats, is all. I'd be worried for the poor thing if its owner didn't know how to take care of it."
"What's there to know about cats?" He spread his hands wide. "You feed them and water them. Done."
I held back a smile. "It's plants that get watered. Cats have food dishes."
"See, I knew you'd be able to help me."
He flashed me a grin. My head went dizzy again. I'd read about charming smiles, but I'd never thought it was an actual thing people could do in real life until I'd met Nathan Walker.
"So," he said, breaking my thoughts. "Cat stuff?"
"Right." I waved my hand to the bags of litter, determined to remain professional. "Let's go with the most important thing first. Do you know what brand the cat likes?"
"Nope."
"Cats can be picky sometimes."
"I'll get one of each, then."
"We have ten different kinds."
But he was already moving on, acting as if there was nothing more between us than a simple shopping trip.
"I don't know what kind of food she eats," he said. "Maybe I'll get one of each of those too."
"We carry fifteen brands of cat food."
I had a feeling he wouldn't care about that, either. World-famous rock stars made a lot of money. Now I really regretted not making commission.
"And what about toys?" he asked. "I don't want Cleo to get bored."
"Her name is Cleo?" I asked. "Short for Cleopatra?"
"Cute, right?" A fond smile crossed his lips. "My mom named her."
"It is cute," I agreed. "How old is she?"
"Only a year. My mom got her to keep from getting lonely once I started going off touring."
He looked around and fiddled with some catnip bags. I noticed the thin red lines all over the back of his hand.
"You're all scratched up," I said, alarmed.
"Cleo doesn't really like me," he said with a rueful grin. "Animals in general don't like me." He examined the scratches on his hand. "What about toys? You got anything cool? Maybe I can keep her from using me as her scratching post."
My eyes lit up. "We just got these great new cat trees. They've got multiple levels and tons of scratching posts and this part where you can hang a dangling toy for them to bat at."
"You've sold me on it," he chuckled. "Sounds fancier than the toys I got as a kid."
"Some people do pamper their pets like children."
"So you work at a pet store and volunteer at a hospital?" Nathan asked as I rang everything up. "Must keep you pretty busy."
The store was technically closed, but I wasn't going to kick out a paying customer. I'd convinced him to only buy three bags of litter and five cans of food for now. If Cleo was picky he could always buy more. I didn't want to risk the rest going to waste.
"It's not really a pet store," I explained. "We don't have any live animals on site. It's more of an animal accessories and products store."
"Too bad," he said. "I was looking forward to singing how much is that doggy in the window? "
I cracked a smile at the children's song reference.
When I finished ringing everything up and told him the amount, I thought he might wince. He just handed over a gold credit card for me to swipe.
When I handed him the receipt, he reached out. Instead of taking the receipt, he took my hand. I inhaled sharply as a tingle went through my entire body, from the tips of my fingers, down to my toes, and straight into my very bones.
"Why'd you walk out on me?" he asked.
My eyes jumped to his. He was staring at me. His fingertips rested against my inner wrist. Could he feel my pulse through the thin skin? Could he tell how fast my heart was beating?
"Why would I have stayed?" I asked.
"I could have made you bacon and eggs this morning." He offered with a languid smile.
I looked down at our conjoined hands. His large, warm palm engulfed mine.
"I didn't think rock stars did the morning-after-breakfast thing?—"
I stumbled over the end of that sentence as his thumb stroked back and forth along my wrist. Every swipe sent my thoughts scattering. My lips parted, but sounds wouldn't come.
He picked up the heavy shopping bags in both hands and turned to leave. Just before exiting, he turned back and threw me a wink.
"If you had stayed, maybe you would have found out."