CHAPTER FOUR #2
“Nothing much,” I admit. “Go find my car and head to my parents’ house.” I don’t want to add that I’m going to be stress-waiting for a callback from any of the fifteen businesses I applied to yesterday and looking for a summer housing arrangement.
“I can take you to your car,” he offers.
“You’ve done so much for me already,” I say. “I feel bad.”
“Don’t feel bad, Casey.” His response is so smooth, so light, that it immediately loosens that tight knot in my chest. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to, I promise.”
I smile over at him, and for a moment I swear we’re suspended in time, locked into something so sweet and beguiling I can’t bear to pry my gaze away.
It happened last night, but I figured it’d been the alcohol.
But it’s happening now, in the light of day, and I still feel that crazy urge to climb into his lap and curl up.
We finish cleaning up from breakfast and head outside into the warm morning. A gleaming, brand-new truck sits in the driveway. I let out a low whistle. “Is this sexy thing yours?”
“Sure is. You don’t remember riding in it last night, do you?”
I squint at it. “Not exactly.”
“You said the same thing last night about liking the truck.”
This makes me burst into laughter. “Well at least I’m consistent. You know, I’m not usually much of a lover of vehicles, but clearly there’s something about this truck.”
“Probably because it’s the latest model.” He hits the unlock button and the truck beeps softly. “I bought it on a whim last season and spent way too much on it. Then two weeks later I got injured. Now I kind of regret it.”
As we climb into his truck, I say, “Don’t regret it; instead, celebrate the fact that both drunk and sober friends will be mildly attracted to your truck.”
He looks terribly amused as he glances over at me. “So where are we heading?”
“I left my car by the bank downtown.”
“Like where they have the farmer’s market?” he asks as he cranes his neck to pull out of his driveway.
“The farmer’s market is on the corner of Market Street and Hancock,” I say slowly, trying to pull up my mental map.
He thinks for a moment as he pulls out of his neighborhood. “That’s where it used to be. It moved last year. It’s near the bank now.”
I blink, letting this information settle in. That’s an odd location for the farmer’s market, but who am I to judge? “Maybe we can check it out while we’re nearby.”
Griffin nods, not missing a beat. “Let’s do it. I need some honey.”
I look over at him, squinting slightly. Is this man real?
It’d been like pulling teeth to get Jake to go to the farmer’s market with me in Chicago.
Griffin’s been proving himself the perfect man nonstop for the past few days, and if he keeps it up, I’m going to fall head over heels in love with him.
Not ruling out that I haven’t been in love with him on some level since I was fifteen.
Griffin pulls up to the long row of parking where I left my car last night. But as he does, I begin to realize why the farmer’s market location change was relevant. It didn’t move near where I’d parked my car.
It is completely happening around, in between, and on top of where I parked last night.
“Oh my god.” My mouth begins a slow descent to the floor as I see the steady stream of people flowing past my little sedan. It is absolutely buried in the middle of the farmer’s market, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry right now.
“What’s wrong?” Griffin asks as he eases into an open spot farther down the road, away from the action of the market.
“My car is…trapped in the farmer’s market.
” A little laugh escapes me, because it’s ridiculous.
I tried to be smart. I tried to be responsible.
Instead, Casey’s Chaos struck again, and I left my car in the middle of the farmer’s market zone.
“I didn’t realize when I left it there last night. I…this…it’s absurd.”
He twists to look back at the market, and then barks out a laugh. “No shit. That’s your car right there in the middle, huh?”
“No moving it now, I guess.”
“Definitely not. A vendor is using it to display bouquets.”
I groan, covering my face with my hands. “Even when I try to be smart, I mess it up.”
He quirks a brow, looking over at me. “You really think that?”
A frustrated sigh escapes me. “Kind of. Yeah. It’s just…it’s been a lifetime of stuff like this.” I gesture vaguely toward the farmer’s market. “Sometimes I think I’m cursed. You saw me spill the drink on myself the other day. You can’t deny it—I’ve always been Chaotic Casey.”
He shrugs, grinning. “I like it. It’s…you.”
I’m not exactly sure what to do with that comment.
I’ve never had someone say that to me before.
I blink a few times, turning his words over in my head, trying not to read into them.
I’ve only ever been not quite right enough for most people, so this is clearly an example of an old friend trying to make me feel better.
“I think I need some coffee,” I blurt. “It’ll be a while before I can get in there and move my car.”
“I’ll come with,” he says, checking the time on his phone. “If you want company. I’ve got some time to kill before I head east.”
“Where are you off to today?” I ask, grateful for the focus on something that isn’t me.
“Cleveland,” he says. “I need to check in with my physical therapist.”
“Even on a Saturday?”
“Even on a Saturday,” he confirms before pushing open the door.
I slide out of the truck and head to meet him at the front.
He towers over me, jingling his keys in his pocket as he scans the area.
Sunlight glints off his freshly shaved face, allowing me to see the sharp angle of his jaw.
The backwards ballcap is hiding the waves of his hair, which I’m desperate to see again after the grand opening at Piper’s barn.
“Let me buy you a coffee,” I suggest. “I want to repay you for how nice you’ve been to me.”
“Or I’ll buy you a coffee,” he returns, “because you’re an old friend who’s back in town.”
“Okay but what if I buy you a coffee—” I begin, but Griffin laughs, squeezing my arm as he directs me toward The Daily Grind on the corner.
“We’ll figure it out when we get there,” he promises.
“Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about your honey,” I say as we fall into step together. My mind sizzles on the brief squeeze he’d given my arm. “I just can’t bear to face my trapped car quite yet.”
“Understood.”
“Besides, I left an application at The Daily Grind and the barista was weird about it so I just want to go peek if the manager is there,” I add.
Griffin slows, and I can sense his confusion before he says, “You applied for a job there?”