Chapter 6 #2
He nodded. “Yes, a tour—that’s the word.” He said that like he’d only just learned what the word meant, which didn’t make much sense. But a lot of things about him didn’t make sense.
“I’m sure he’ll give you a tour of something all right,” Eric chimed in, but Daddy didn’t seem to hear him or didn’t care because his expression didn’t change.
“Uh…okay, yes, I could do that.”
“I have to procure some tools today, but tomorrow perhaps?”
Procure some tools? Some of the things this guy says…
“I work until three,” I explained, “but that’d be good for me. Maybe now we could exchange numbers.” I retrieved my phone.
The way he’d acted earlier at my place hadn’t made any sense—the list was only getting longer—but I was starting to realize that maybe he was nervous.
He had a strange personality and was difficult to read.
But here he was, and he wanted to see me again, which had butterflies fluttering in my belly.
As I was about to pass him my phone, I noticed he had that expression he’d made with that asshole customer, as though he was about to tear my phone from my hand and toss it across the shop.
There must be a reason my phone scares him so much…
And that poked at something Eric said earlier.
“Quick question: do you happen to have a boyfriend?”
“I have many friends,” he replied, not taking his eyes off my phone.
“No, like a boyfriend. A partner.”
“A mate?”
In my periphery, Eric’s brow creased.
“Sure, that.”
“No, I don’t have a mate or…boyfriend.”
“Then why do you keep acting weird about me trying to get your number?”
“I…I’m not sure I should say,” Daddy hedged, in a way that got the adrenaline kicking through me real fast.
“Okay, this is my cue to head on.” Eric searched around uneasily, this awkwardness evidently beyond his tolerance. Pushing up from his stool, he stepped behind Daddy and shook his head, mouthing, “No,” before heading on his way.
Once he was gone, Daddy leaned closer, whispering, “Is she listening?”
“She? Who?”
“Chelsea.”
“Chelsea? Who the—”
“What can I help you with?” Chelsea’s voice came from my phone, which made Daddy’s eyes go wide, as if he’d just seen something terrifying.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” he spit out.
“What? Is this about my phone? Huh?”
“I would feel better discussing this in private,” he said, and even with him just having mentioned Chelsea, it took me a moment to realize what he was saying. “Oh, you mean…”
I headed to the back room and set my phone on the shelf. A part of me felt like when I headed back, he was gonna tell me he didn’t understand why I’d done that, that I was being ridiculous, but I could tell he was relieved.
“Do they put anything on you that links you to her?”
“Like a Bluetooth?”
He made a face. “It doesn’t matter. It’s possible you might not even be aware.”
“Are you one of those off-the-grid guys?” This all seemed to be leading to conspiracy-theory territory, but he was hot enough that I could overlook a few quirks…maybe even more than a few.
“I’m not ‘on the grid’ as long as the Kaylog isn’t working.”
Well, I understood some of those words.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” I said.
“When you meet me tomorrow, would you mind not bringing Chelsea with you?” he pressed, as though that was essential to seeing him again.
“Okay, yeah…” Although, probably not a great idea to tell some strange guy I’ll meet him without my phone. But he didn’t say not to meet him without pepper spray.
“Good,” he said. “I can meet at the front of your place.”
At my place made me feel a little better.
“Will you be wearing different clothes?” I joked.
He thought about this for too long before saying, “Of course. That is a normal thing, right? For people to wear different clothes every day?”
I laughed. “You have the quirkiest sense of humor, Daddy.”
Despite the uneasiness prevalent throughout our conversation, a sliver of a smirk slipped across his lips, assuring me once again that despite all the strangeness, there was something else there too.
The eagerness in my belly.
The warmth in my face.
The confusion spiraling around my brain, which made me hope that some of his behavior was just him feeling the same…
Maybe…
Hopefully…
After we set a time and he left, I got back to work, mostly cleaning up behind the bar. Eric swung by while he was working his shift in the bookstore, and I already knew he was gonna give me hell even before he said, “You manage to get rid of that creeper?”
“He’s not a creeper.” I was a little too defensive of this guy I barely knew.
His gaze narrowed. “You like him, don’t you?”
My cheeks flushed. “As much as you can like someone you just met,” I admitted, which felt like a lie since the guy definitely did something to me.
He closed his eyes, like what I’d said had exhausted him. “There’s a lot of red flags there.”
I glared at him. That wasn’t something he had to spell out for me. Since I’d met Daddy, I’d noticed something was kind of off about his behavior. Clearly, something was up with Daddy, but still, I defended him. “Maybe he’s simply quirky. Or neurodivergent. We don’t know.”
“You’ve watched too many true crime TikToks and listened to too many podcasts to not see the massive red billboard that guy’s carrying around. You should not be meeting this man anywhere.”
He wasn’t wrong. Especially when the guy told me not to bring my phone…because who the hell says that? But obviously, considering Eric’s skepticism, I definitely wasn’t gonna bring that up.
“You have a broken picker,” Eric said, “and he’s literally going to kill you.”
Okay, maybe he wasn’t wrong about the broken picker, given my experience with Carter. But the whole killing me, now he was just being dramatic. Daddy was nice. He even defended me against Caramel Guy. He wouldn’t kill me. Would he?
“I think you have a job to be doing,” I said through my teeth.
“Apparently, saving your ass.”
I rolled my eyes as I finished scraping gunk off the rack in the convection oven. “Thanks for the tip, Eric.”
Although, I had to admit, eager as I was to see Daddy again, uneasiness lingered in my gut.