167. Sterling
Chapter 167
Sterling
When I get to the Food Hall for lunch, Courtney is already seated.
She’s at the end of her bench, with Simpson next to her and Leon across from her.
Nowhere for me to cut in.
I try to catch her eye, but she doesn’t look up from her conversation.
It’s not like she usually makes a show of greeting me, but this feels… like I should be worried.
Gathering up my plate of food, I try to see if Cook’s expression will tell me anything, but he’s his usual self.
I consider sitting at a whole different table, but I can’t make myself do it.
I need to be near her.
Leon gives me a nod as I set my plate down next to his. And Courtney finally lifts her gaze to mine when I sit.
Her smile looks… off. “Hi, Boss.”
Her greeting hits me like a slap.
Boss.
The guys call me Boss.
It’s not a big deal .
But Courtney doesn’t call me that. Not since she first started.
Not since she hated me.
I knock. Feeling like an idiot. But it’s still early evening, and it doesn’t feel right to just walk in.
Except she doesn’t answer.
I press my ear to the door, but I don’t hear any signs of Courtney inside.
It’s possible she’s ignoring me.
Like she did when she slipped out of the Food Hall after lunch, but it’s more possible she’s taking a shower.
For a moment, I consider going to the women’s restroom. She wouldn’t be able to avoid me if I walked into the shower with her.
The idea of showering together is one I’d like to explore.
But something’s off between us right now.
And I know it’s my fault.
And I need to find a way to fix it before I throw myself at her again.
Sighing, I turn around and lower myself to her top step.
If someone sees me, I’ll…
I scrub a hand over my face.
If someone sees me, I’ll tell them to fuck off.
Thirty minutes later, my girl appears.
Her hair is wet and twisted in loose braids.
She’s wearing a sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, ready to stay in for the night.
And I feel a pang in my chest because there’s no sign of my flannel anywhere.
The others might not have noticed when she wore it. But I did.
And she’s not wearing it anymore .
I stand as she approaches, taking the few steps down so we’re on even ground.
Courtney is holding a bundle in her arms. Her towel wrapped around her clothes from earlier.
And she looks just like she did last night.
Cautious.
A little nervous.
Alone.
I flex my hands at my sides.
I want to reach for her.
But I don’t know if that’s what she wants.
I don’t know if I’m what she wants.