Chapter 13
13
Sybil
Marcus leaned in close after the bells above the door to the donut shop chimed, and the space full of people grew silent all at once. “Why is everyone staring at us?”
“I…don’t know,” I said. “Do they know?”
Marcus shrugged, but the crowd looked away from us and returned to a normal volume. “Maybe they were admiring my jacket.” He slid his palms down the front of the bright orange nineties-throwback windbreaker he’d found at a thrift store. “But who could blame them?”
“You look good in retro,” I said, distracted by how being back in the shop reminded me of Kieran’s voice, his corded muscles, and how he’d gathered the donuts to donate to a shelter. And his eyes. I didn’t remember the exact color, just that they were dark and something about them made me want to just stare at him, to sink into his gaze. And when he’d looked at me…my body reacted to that memory, too. That’s why I’d waited two days to come in, despite Deacon’s near constant reminders and Marcus checking hourly to make sure the search for me was still on.
“I look good in every color. It’s the skin tone,” Marcus added, but I stopped paying attention because those dark eyes that had given me all the feels the other night were on me from behind the counter. Everyone around us was talking to one another, on their phones, or who knew what else, but his eyes were locked on me from across the room. The moment stretched out, but it was probably only a few seconds before he held his fingers to his lips and nodded to the left, where I knew the office was located.
“That’s him?” Marcus followed my gaze to where Kieran stood, now talking animatedly with a woman who looked a lot like him. I liked the tattoos running up her arm, and I nodded.
“You ready to go get the ticket and confront the guy whose heart you stole?” Marcus held his fist to his chest and batted his eyes.
“I didn’t steal his heart.” I mean, maybe his dignity when I ran out, but not his heart. I’d watched that video a hundred times, and it made sense this crowd had gathered like this. What he said made what we shared seem like the start of an epic love story and not just an epic orgasm.
He walked toward the office, the woman following, and I tried to casually circumvent the line. Luckily, no one was paying attention to me. Marcus was on my heels gathering a few looks, but mostly because his jacket was impossible to ignore. “You want me to go in with you as, like, muscle?”
I snort-laughed. “Muscle?”
“I’ve got some muscle,” he said as we approached the short hallway leading to the office. “And you’re going to walk out of here with a winning lottery ticket. It might not be safe for you to be alone.”
“Cover my six,” I joked while wrapping an arm around his waist. He was right, and I was pretty sure he knew I knew he was right, but he had the decency and kind heart not to make me eat my words. The office was smaller and more cramped than I remembered, though in fairness, this time I wasn’t about to get laid, so I took in more of my surroundings. Kieran was crouched next to the desk, unlocking a drawer, his arm muscles bunched under his T-shirt. I’d never been an arm girl before, but damn if I couldn’t stop remembering how they felt wrapped tight around me again.
“Hi,” the woman standing next to him said, stretching out her hand to shake. She had a wide smile and the gem in her nose piercing caught the fluorescent light, giving her a sparkly effect. “We didn’t get to actually meet the other night, but I’m Lila.”
Lila’s hand was soft and small in mine, and I waited for her to lob a barb my way for running out or having a one-night stand with her brother, but her gaze had drifted to Marcus. “Hi,” she added in his direction, flashing a smile.
Marcus had already dropped the tough guy stance he’d taken up and extended his hand, too. I couldn’t help but notice how his gaze dropped to the sleeve of tattoos up her arm. “Marcus—I’m a friend of Syb’s.”
“Here it is,” Kieran said, standing and handing over the ticket, ignoring the vibes between Marcus and Lila. He held it out, the blue ink dotting the paper’s edges.
“Hi,” I said, because “You gave me the strongest orgasm of my life in this office” seemed a little too familiar given the circumstances.
“Hi,” he returned, glancing down at the ticket, his voice more clipped than I remembered. “I’m glad you came back to get it.”
“Wow,” I said, brushing my fingers over the edge of the paper, but not taking it from him yet. “I can’t believe it’s a winning ticket.”
“Three hundred and fifty million dollars,” Marcus said with a whistle from behind me.
My finger grazed Kieran’s, the back of my forefinger sliding against his, the contact sending goose bumps up my arm as we both said, “Two hundred and fifty after taxes.” My eyes shot to his at the end of the sentence, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Jinx,” I said. “You owe me a Coke.” Our dad played that game with Grace and me as kids, and I smiled, but Kieran’s expression didn’t change, though Marcus and Lila both chuckled.
Awkward.
“I owe you, I guess,” he said, finally moving the ticket toward my hand again. “It’s already signed, so you should be able to run with it.”
I held the ticket loosely in my hand. “Ironic, since I ran without it last time.” I gave him another smile, but this time only Lila laughed. I was beginning a new list of reasons to marry her alongside Marcus. Laughing at my jokes was top of the list.
“Yeah,” Kieran said, stepping back, the contact from our fingers slipping farther and farther away. “I guess so.”
“Well,” Lila said, clapping her hands together and interrupting this uncomfortable AF exchange. Another plus on the list for Lila. “Should we give you two a moment?” She exchanged a look with Marcus, who nodded, gaze skating up her arm again.
“That okay, Syb?” He said it with his hand on the door, I guess forgetting he’d agreed to be my bodyguard.
“Sure,” I said, tucking the ticket in my pocket, sliding it gently into the denim. “I think I can handle him.”
Lila was asking about Marcus’s jacket as they stepped outside and the door closed, leaving me with Mr. Talkative, who was now leaning against the desk, one long leg slung over the other. “Pretty sure I handled you last time,” he finally said, and I looked from his worn shoes to his face, where his lips tipped up in a tiny smile.
“Ah,” I said awkwardly, trying to figure out what to do with my hands. “Yes. You definitely did.” The chair where he had indeed handled me sat behind him. “And I’m so sorry I left the door unlocked when I ran off and didn’t say anything…”
“You did leave a note,” he said with a tip of his head and the rise of one of his shoulders.
“Oh my God,” I said, pulling the ticket from my pocket. “Do you think they’ll accept this with ‘thanks for the orgasm’ written on the back?” I studied my writing and he stood straighter, taking a step closer to me.
“I guess that’s better than ‘thanks for the lack of orgasm.’?” Kieran smelled like donuts and coffee and, underneath it, something minty.
“Look who’s got jokes,” I said, letting my body relax and ignoring the way his scent and proximity made me want to ask for a repeat of last Friday.
“Look who’s a millionaire,” he said, raising his hand like he might brush my arm, but he ran it through his hair under his hat.
“We should split it,” I said, holding it up. I could picture Grace and Mom seeing this moment play out and lecturing me about not consulting lawyers and financial planners first. The truth was, I couldn’t imagine that much money and I didn’t want to think about the kinds of decisions I’d have to make to manage it. I glanced around and down at Kieran’s shoes again. “I mean, finders keepers, right? You could have kept it all for yourself.”
Next to me, Kieran stiffened. “I wouldn’t do that.” He stepped back and that cool expression fell from his face. “If you gave me money, that would be like you paying me for sex. Or giving me charity in exchange for sex.”
“That’s a stretch,” I reasoned. “And no one would have to know the circumstances.”
“I’d know.” He shook his head. “I don’t want your money.”
“C’mon,” I said. Even split in two, that jackpot could change everything. “It was accidental sex work, at most.”
“It’s yours.”
“You’re being irrational,” I said, pushing the ticket back into my pocket. “You realize you’re turning down millions of dollars for your pride.”
“Better irrational than impetuous. It’s your money. Don’t you think you’d regret giving half to a complete stranger?”
“You’re not a complete stranger,” I said, hearing my family’s voices in his words, hearing the constant reminders to think before I acted. My hackles were up, and I was ready to do something even more impetuous, like kiss him or storm out to google what to do with a winning lottery ticket, but I looked him over again, my eyes once more landing on his worn shoes. I wondered what the real reason was that he would refuse the offer. Was it truly pride?
“I mean, I know you a little. Tell me your last name and we’ll be one step closer since we already…” I waved my hands in front of my jeans.
“I remember.”
My hands were still motioning in front of me, and I gave up on erotic charades and let them fall. “Until we got caught. That’s why I ran out.”
“That makes sense.” He nodded once, posture still stick straight. “But I’m still not taking your money.”
“Ugh,” I breathed out, frustrated. “I can’t leave you with nothing.”
Kieran motioned to the store. “We got a lot of press and customers the last few days. That helped.”
I saw the familiar red print on some envelopes on the edge of the desk behind him and remembered a few references he’d made on Friday when the store was mostly empty. I noticed the logo from a nearby hospital on several of the envelopes, and he’d said in the video his grandfather had health troubles. “Did it help enough?”
He saw me looking and pushed them aside and out of my line of sight. I knew that trick, and I studied his face. “It helped.”
I gave a hum and turned, taking in the family photos on the walls between documents. One caught my eye—it was an older one with a little boy and little girl in front of the same Ferris wheel in the photo of me with my dad. “Is this you?” I pointed, and Kieran shifted behind me.
“Yeah. With my granddad.”
As I traced a finger over the side of the photo, his stories about his grandfather came back to me from that night we shared eating donuts together. The similarity to my photo with my dad, the realization of both of us being in that place and standing here now…the ideas were a tornado in my head. Next to it was a photo of Kieran and the same old man at a graduation ceremony, and one of Kieran standing by a sign for medical school.
“What if you took just enough to pay off your bills?”
He bristled. I saw it in the tensing of his shoulders. “You don’t need to share your winnings with us.”
“I know,” I said, placing my hands on my hips. “But it’s partly my fault you were robbed, and I know what it feels like to have bills hanging over your head. Can’t you just accept a bit of good fortune?”
He paused for a moment and then shook his head. “No, I’ll figure out a way to take care of the bills. Getting something for nothing isn’t…” He began to explain further but clamped his mouth shut. “It’s not something I can do. I’ve always made my own way.”
“No offense,” I said, my own posture tensing. “But that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Take the money and pay your bills. Can you imagine having no debt at all? I honestly can’t, but it’s going to be amazing!” I held up the ticket as if he’d forgotten I had it. “Let me at least do that for you.”
I wondered if Kieran had taken some vow of poverty or just really enjoyed interacting with debt collectors, because his resistance made no sense. No sense unless his only reason was that I was the one offering the money. I’d taken the donuts and only left a note; I’d run out on him, leaving the door unlocked. Maybe it wasn’t so much pride as not wanting to engage with me.
“Is that your grandfather out there behind the counter?”
He nodded.
“I should just offer him the money,” I said, crossing my arms. “Since you’re being unreasonable. Would be just as good.”
I thought I saw the glimmer of a smirk. “His knees are bad. Wouldn’t be just as good.” With Kieran’s dry delivery, I almost missed the joke that made me want to throttle and kiss him, but I landed on a grin. He was smart, and not just because he’d been in medical school; he was witty, and I remembered him talking about taking donuts to the shelter and how it seemed like he cared about the community. He was the kind of guy who my family would think was a good choice.
“If you won’t take the money straight up, we could arrange a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“You take enough to pay off your bills,” I said, and I held up a palm, sensing the argument I was about to get. “I know what it looks like being deep in debt,” I added. “And you are.”
“I don’t want your—”
“Let me finish!” I held his gaze for a moment before continuing. “You take enough to pay off your bills, and in return, you keep up this charade that you’re into me, and we pretend we’re a couple through my sister’s wedding in three months.”
“You want to pretend to date me? Why?”
I stepped closer to him, within arm’s reach in the tight space. “Everyone thinks this is a romance. What if we just pretend it is?”
“People don’t fake relationships.”
“Sure they do!” I paced, the ideas coming too quickly. “I mean, celebrities, right?”
“Yeah, but not normal people.”
“Hate to break it to you, Donut Man, your little video went viral. This is your fifteen minutes of fame.”
“I don’t want fame,” he grumbled. “Anyway, I told the world I didn’t know your last name or anything about you. Who would believe we were dating?”
I considered reminding him he knew how to describe my eyes and that I brightened things up, but the fact that I’d watched the video enough times to memorize his description was a little embarrassing.
“Think about it. People might stay interested if they think this is real, if this whole wild situation started a love story. Not forever, just…you know, for a little while, to help your shop.”
“Why would they continue to care?”
I shrugged and stopped my pacing. “We’re hot. I’m funny. Plus, money and donuts. I don’t know…seems like the kind of thing we could get a month or two of interest in. Would a couple months of good business help save the shop?”
Kieran looked uncomfortable, scratching the back of his neck, a skeptical look on his face. “We’d be lying.”
“I’m a great liar,” I joked, trying unsuccessfully to put him at ease. “We’d use creative truth telling,” I said when my joke didn’t work, stepping into his space and resting a hand on his biceps, his warm, solid biceps. “We met in the shop. We’ll just…I don’t know. Make it sound more romantic.” Truth was, I’d thought that night was pretty romantic until his sister had interrupted things. It had felt like Kieran was about to surprise me that whole night, and in a way that would make me feel lucky to see it. “Please let me help you—it’s the least I can do if you won’t take half.”
His face jerked to mine at the touch, but he didn’t move away as our eyes met, his gaze assessing.
“I know we don’t know each other well, but I know this place matters to you, and you had the chance to look out for yourself and instead you looked for me.” I brushed my palm down the length of his arm, the muscles flexing under my hand. “And people say I’m usually selfish,” I said, parroting what I’d heard my whole life, “so if you say no, you’re really robbing me of the rare chance to do something nice for someone else.”
“So this is really about you?” His grin tipped up. The one I remembered from that night, the one that reminded me why it had been so tempting to kiss him.
“Yeah.” My hand slid back up his arm. “You’re catching on. And I’d benefit, too. My family thinks I’m seeing a nice soon-to-be doctor, and you’d fit the bill.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “What would we have to do?”
I had no idea, but I was confident I could figure it out. “I think we’d need to…well, look like we’re into each other in a few Instagram posts. Maybe tell people I’ve been in a couple times, but never told you my name, which is technically true. If we look like we want to tear each other’s clothes off, I bet people will believe it,” I added, letting in too much honesty. Everything in my life was on shaky ground, and as much as money would solve a lot of problems, it made me just as unsteady. But Kieran was solid, like if I leaned against him, he’d stay put. “You’ll meet my family a few times and be a nice almost doctor, but they’re busy with getting ready for my sister’s wedding, so it won’t be a big deal, and…you could go with me to the wedding as my date.”
He studied my face, his expression so serious and unmoving. “A couple of social media posts and family dinners and a wedding and then just…let people believe what they want to believe?”
“Look, if it doesn’t work, I’ll still give you the money.”
“I don’t like the idea of accepting this big a gift. We’d need at least three hundred thousand dollars to pay everything off.”
“I’ve been told I’m a lot. You’ll earn it,” I joked. “And would spending time with me be such a terrible thing?” I flashed what I knew was a flirty smile. “As I mentioned, I’m hot and funny.”
Kieran stilled for a moment, eyes on my face. He’d said he wanted to be a doctor. I couldn’t imagine having a doctor who looked like him, and I wondered if he’d turn me down again and send me on my way. I didn’t want him to. I’d enjoyed him as a solid surface on this unsteady ground.
He studied my face intently and finally nodded, extending his hand to shake. “Okay. It’s a deal.” When our palms met, his grip was firm and warm, and I tried my best to ignore the tingles moving through my body at his touch. I felt really good about this—maybe with a guy like Kieran next to me, and hundreds of millions of dollars in the bank, I could finally get my family to take me seriously. He seemed perfect on paper, even if a real relationship between us would never work. “It will be great doing business with you,” I said, releasing his hand and holding up the lottery ticket with my handwritten note for him to see. “Just don’t go falling in love with me along the way.”
“Believe me,” he said, hand on the doorknob. “Everything about the situation makes me certain that won’t happen.”