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Then why did you turn your head away when he tried to kiss you?
I could still feel Zach’s lips where they’d collided with my cheek. The spot flushed pink with residual embarrassment.
I just…I don’t know. Shut up!
Is it because you’re in love with someone else? Hmm…
No. It’s because Zach hasn’t called me. No call, no kiss.
I swapped my retainer for a piece of spearmint gum, then lit my cigarette.
You wouldn’t turn your head if Ken tried to kiss you.
Well, Ken never tries to kiss me, so…I guess we’ll never know.
That shut my inner bitch up. Because it was true. Ken never kissed me. I’d kissed him. I’d chased him. I had given him my number, and I’d made him date me. I’d moved my shit into his house, and I’d weaseled my way into his life, and the whole time, he’d just…let me.
And my dumb ass called that love.
Glancing down the long, wide aisle that bisected the first floor of Macy’s, I hoped against hope that I’d see Ken walking toward me with his perfect posture and his perma-smirk. He used to surprise me sometimes and show up on my lunch break. He’d always appear at twelve o’clock sharp. I didn’t have to look at a clock to know that noon had come and gone. My growling, gnawing, empty stomach let me and anyone within earshot know loud and clear.
With a heavy sigh, I trudged to the cash stand. Grabbing my purse, I clocked out and headed toward the parking lot. Maybe I’d buy a toothbrush while I was on break. And some Advil. And a bottle of Jameson to wash it down.
“Hey, BB!” Freddy from Men’s Fragrance chirped, leaning against a display case in all his metrosexual Latin glory. “You going to lunch? You mind if I—”
“Sure, Freddy,” I sighed. “Come on.”
