27. Store It Away
27
Store It Away
The next day, I observed him and Ash chatting throughout the shift, and picked up as many tidbits about the state of things as I could amid the chaos of fixing shit.
“How’s your mystery girl?” Ash asked, wiping down a thumbprint-covered screen.
“Good.” He raised his arm to lean on the wall, but his elbow slid off and nearly sent him flying.
She chuckled. “What happened? Are you still going out?”
“We don’t really ‘go out’ much.” He fiddled with a photo app on one of the tablets, trying to delete the gallery, which included some cute girl with dyed-blonde hair and her handsy, overly-coiffed boyfriend.
“Oh, you stay in?” Ash wagged her brows and snatched the screen from him to polish it.
“Well, we’re casual. Casually dating. Er, something.” He slid his hand through the air and glanced at me.
Was having a friend with benefits embarrassing?
She snorted. “You hate casual.”
“I’m learning to be less needy,” he said, raising his chin and scratching his goatee .
Ash hummed and locked up the now-clean tablets. “So, she’s set up boundaries. She doesn’t want to go out in public. Not communicating. Doesn’t seem like a love connection to me.”
I bristled and stood up. “Of course they’re not in love. They only just started dating. And what’s wrong with boundaries, anyway?”
Ash quirked her eyebrow, and Sal tensed.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.
Didn’t he care that she was judging us? Or was it not supposed to matter?
She shrugged. “Maybe he needs someone more loving. That’s all I’m saying.”
Was I…were we not loving?
Mind whirring, I tugged my cap down. “Sorry, I’ll just be in the…storage.”
Ugh, I was such an idiot. I closed myself in the cramped closet.
How was someone supposed to love anyone in the beginning? There weren’t any giant spider mechs to save him from. He’d never cried or needed comforting beyond a distraction from this whole Janice thing. We were building on a friendship, taking things slowly.
Then again, he could be building up his self-esteem for his next relationship. Not everything was about me. This wasn’t a long-term arrangement. Except it might be. But what if I wasn’t capable of it? Maybe he knew, and that’s why he left in such a hurry.
Sal knocked the tune of the battle win theme from Final Fantasy games. “Can I come in?”
“Are you allowed to?” That had to be an insurance liability, and I didn’t need to give Ash another reason to fire me.
“Ash sent me.”
“Oh.” I cracked open the door, and he shimmied inside, brightening the gray room and black shelves with his polka-dot shirt and presence .
“Sure is cozy in here,” he said.
I nodded, shutting the door so we had a bit more privacy.
“What’s up?” he asked, bracing his feet on either side of me and propping his back against the wall.
“Nothing.” Nothing worth repeating. I looked down and scuffed my Converse on the tile.
He tilted my cap the tiniest bit up. “Then, why are you hiding?”
“I don’t know,” I huffed. “It’s weird, you’re talking about me, but not talking about me. And now Ash is judging me.”
“Ash judges everybody.” He rolled his eyes and thudded the back of his head on the wall.
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
He laughed incredulously. “She said worse about Janice for almost a year. Hell, you met my ex twice before you decided she wasn’t good enough for me.”
“She wasn’t,” I snapped.
He strained his lips in a knowing, closed-lipped smile. “You and Ash’d make a great pot and kettle set, as the saying goes.”
What the hell did that mean? My heart hammered against my sternum. “Are you saying we were rude about Janice, or that she’s right about me?”
“I’m saying I’ve learned to let things like that roll off my back. I used to ask her advice about women, and about Janice, so she’s used to giving her input.” He nudged my foot. “It doesn’t change how I feel about anybody.”
Right. He still loved Janice, in his own way. At least enough to invite her to Thanksgiving. But he’d also invited me.
I sighed and tugged my cap. “I know I’m not the most demonstrable with my feelings–”
“Really?” He sniggered.
“What?” I frowned .
“You backhand helicopters, hide among the shelving, and only smile with teeth when you genuinely like something. You’re not that hard to read.”
I wasn’t? My lips parted, the air tingling with static from stale, recycled heat and his proximity.
Those cute fucking dimples could tear down anyone’s defenses.
“What am I thinking now, then?” I asked.
Chips of gold lit his soft, roaming gaze. “Come closer.”
Whether that’s what I was thinking, or that was his request so he could read me, it felt right. Magnetic.
I sidled up to him and burned under his gaze. His lip ticked up, setting my heart aglow. How much of me could he see? Was I bright? Funny? Sweet?
Or maybe that was only how I saw him, and he'd caught a glimpse of my feelings lingering in his reflection. I rubbed my thighs together. He’d bared my soul and enjoyed it. Maybe I could show him more. Or discover more of him.
I gripped the scruff of his collar, closed my eyes, and kissed him.
Sparks set off under my skin. It was soft, tentative, and trembling, at least on my end.
I had to show him I cared. That I could be loving. That I’d try, at least.
He slid his hand under my jacket, brushing the singed fleece to rest in the small of my back.
Whatever light and love I had, I poured into that kiss. We twisted to avoid hat and forehead collision, my lips swelling with affection.
How much could I tell him with a look? With a touch? Was I telling him I loved him?
I trembled, and he eased back, his eyes slow to open.
“Maybe we should get back,” he said, his voice soft and graveled .
“Yeah,” I said. We were at work, after all. This was hardly the place for emotional confessions. Or make out sessions.
He stood and reached for the door, but I grasped his shirt.
“Wait. Are you okay? With my boundaries and coming to my house and…everything?” I licked my tingling lips.
“Mostly.” He straightened my cap, then bent to pin me with his gaze. “It’d be nice if next time you talked to me instead of the whole run-and-hide routine.”
“Okay. And you'll do the same for me, presumably.”
He nodded. "I'm busy right now, but I'll do my best."
My heart thudded. It wasn’t like he’d hunt me down and demand anything. Affection. Control. I flexed my fingers into fists. No matter where I went, I couldn’t escape the fact I really fucking liked him as more than a friend.