Chapter 1 #2
What the fuck? I move to her side, staring the fucker in the face. “What’d you say?”
“Mind your own fucking business, kid,” he snaps.
Kid? He’s what? A few years older than I am? He’s got some fucking nerve.
As if I’m the one in need of defending, she edges her shoulder in front of mine. “First of all, you must be new here.” Can’t say I’m not impressed and a lot amused. The girl’s got bite.
He replies, “Just started Thursday.”
Leaning closer, she says, “Secondly, ever talk to me or any woman like that again, and you’ll be looking for work elsewhere.
I know TJ doesn’t take kindly to creeps working his counter.
” She slaps her money on the counter. “And for the record, I am his ‘fucking business,’ and I want my change for the soda and beans.” Turning to me, she adds, “You good, babe?”
I chuckle under my breath. “Yeah, all good, sweet cheeks.” I lean in for a kiss because I’m a fucker like that, but I’m met with her middle finger pressed to my lips.
Tugging me by the beltloop of my jeans, she pulls me close, our bodies pressed together, and whispers, “Save it for later. When we’re alone.”
Fuck. I think I’m in love.
The change clangs against the counter, all twenty-three cents of it. She slides it into the palm of her hand, skipping the tip jar, before taking the bean can from the counter and walking to the door.
Just outside, the door closes, and I say, “I take it you’re not friends with that guy?”
She bursts out laughing as we clear ourselves away from the entrance. Eyeing me, she grins. “Can’t say we are.”
I shove my free hand in my pocket and look at her as if I’m seeing someone entirely different than the girl inside the convenience store. “It’s too bad you have to deal with shit like that.”
“Part of being a girl.” She tries to shrug it off like it was nothing. It was something and made me want to punch his fucking face.
Although I have no doubt she can take care of herself, a vulnerability entangled in her strength causes my chest to tighten. “He was out of line,” I say, keeping my voice low between us.
“It is what it is.” She starts to back away. “Enjoy the soda.”
The soda reminds me of Marina, who’s sitting in the car waiting on me. I can barely make out her silhouette behind the tinted window, but I’m really hoping she can’t make me out at all, or I’ll be hearing about this over the dinner table at every major holiday meal and then some.
“Hey,” I say just to the beauty in front of me. “I owe you for the soda.”
“My treat.” Her shoulders pop up and then down before I’m met with her back as she nears the corner of the building.
I don’t go after her, but I make a last-ditch effort. “For real, let me give you some money.”
Glancing back over her shoulder, she shakes her head. “It’s a soda. It’s no big deal.”
“But . . .”
“Really. It’s okay,” she replies, stopping under the awning of the sketchy gas station. Even the potent smell of gasoline and oil slicks on the ground don’t make her any less pretty.
Stepping out on a limb, I close the gap by half, leaving enough distance for her to make her own decisions. “Okay, no money, but what about dinner sometime?”
The corners of her lips slope just high enough to back her entertainment, but her eyes reveal a gleam of interest in the way they shine for me. My breath gets caught somewhere between telling her she’s gorgeous and reminding her to steer clear of the trouble I bring.
“You don’t even know my name, and you’re asking me out?” There’s no offense to her tone or in her stance by how relaxed she appears.
I should probably take the opportunity she’s giving me to prove I’m not a total asshole. Holding out my hand, I say, “People who know me call me Harbor. You can do the same.”
She comes a little closer, the heat of her proximity reaching me. As she slips her hand against mine, her chest rises as her lips part. “Are we friends now, Harbor?”
Since not one PG image crosses my thoughts, friends aren’t what I had in mind. I’m not friends with anyone these days, but she might be worth making an exception. “It depends.”
I’m not sure why my directness puts her at ease, but her smile reveals only intrigue. She should probably run, get away from me as fast as she can without giving me a second thought. “Depends on what?”
“What happens next.”
She laughs, rocking back on her heels. “I have to go, so I guess we’ll leave it to the fates to decide.”
While the distance we had just closed widens, I throw my arms out wide. “You’re not going to tell me your name?” In a class of almost two-hundred students, her name is one of the few things I’ve not caught. I was hoping to remedy that.
The afternoon sun shines on her. “Isn’t it more fun this way?”
“Fun is subjective.” I watch as she turns around, her shoulders rattling with laughter. “But I’ll play along.” Helps that I know I’ll see her in class.
Glancing back, she says, “I had no doubt you would.”
“Do you ever have doubts?”
“All the time. See you around, Harbor.” She gives me a little wave before she disappears around the corner.
I could chase her down and ask for her number, but two rejections from the same girl is enough for one day. I pull my keys from my pocket and spin the ring around my finger. Anyway, she’s right. It is more fun this way. Just wait until she sees me on Monday.
I walk to my pride and joy—my Ghibli Modena—and open the car door. I don’t have time to get in fully before Marina asks, “What took you so long? I thought I was going to die of thirst while waiting.”
“I didn’t think you’d notice since your eyes are always glued to that screen.”
“Okay, Dad,” she says in a deep mocking voice.
Handing over the soda, I look at her, knowing one day, if she hasn’t already, she’ll face assholes who will treat her like that guy in there. That’s not a conversation to have now, but one we need to have soon. “Don’t ever go to this station.”
She looks up briefly, her eyes looking at the building behind me. “Ew. I wouldn’t anyway.” Good. “I don’t even know where we are.”
It’s true, this isn’t my usual store or gas station, but it’s close to downtown, so I made the detour. I reach over to ruffle my little sister’s hair, but she blocks me. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Thanks,” she replies, pushing my hand away. “Long line?”
“Yeah,” I lie, knowing firsthand that sixteen-year-old girls can be ruthless when it suits them.
I start the Maserati, acting as casually as I can. We don’t even hit the street before she asks, “Did you at least get her number?”
The last thing my sister needs to hear about is how I hit on a woman with great legs, an even better ass, and a mouth I wouldn’t mind occupying for a night. And then got rejected. “You saw that?”
She’s at least polite enough to keep her laughter under wraps . . . until she can’t.
“Everyone saw it.”
“I didn’t ask for it.” Not a lie.
Her phone is now the least interesting thing in the car when she angles toward me. “Why not? It seems a shame to let all that flirting go to waste.”
“Eh,” I say, “I think I’ll leave it to the fates to decide.”
“If the fates have their way, you just met your soul mate.”
Surprised to hear the seriousness in her tone, I glance over at my sister. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you weren’t the only one flirting.”
I return my gaze to the drive ahead, but there’s no stopping the stupid grin on my face. I’m not sure about anything when it comes to the gorgeous girl I just encountered, but she’s got me thinking about her and this main character business.
I may not believe in fate, but I believe in myself. Wonder what it takes to be the hero of her story?