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“You smell so good.”
A lot of scents bother me, so all my soaps, shampoos, and detergents are scent-free, which means whatever smell he likes so much, it’s just me. When I tell him that, he tightens his hold on me. “You’re not just anything.” Then he sets me down on my feet, though he doesn’t let go of me. “You’ve said that before. The day we met, you said, ‘I’m just Millie.’” He exhales audibly as if I’m a pain in his ass then knocks me on my metaphorical ass when he says, “You’re everything.”
He brushes his thumb over my knuckles once, and his gaze lingers on my mouth for a moment before lifting to my eyes. “See you tomorrow morning, Mills.”
And I’m left staring out of the window as my heart trails after Austin Ashwood.
My boss.
CHAPTER 13
AUSTIN
I’m heading out of a mobility workout one of the trainers always runs with all the pitchers when I get a text from Millie.
I had some car trouble this morning.
No big deal, but I wanted to let you know I’m not sure when I’ll be able to feed Harold.
I can see she’s typing from the bubble that pops up, but I don’t wait to call her.
“What do you mean, it’s no big deal?” I ask once she picks up.
“It’s no big deal.”
“What happened?”
Her pause is telling.
“What happened, Millie?”
“I was on my way to drop off Noah at school this morning, and it started smoking.”
“And you’re just telling me now? That was hours ago.”
“Yeah, because it’s no big deal. I’m only telling you because I don’t want you to think I’m being neglectful of my one job.”
“I really wish you would’ve told me earlier.”
“Why?”
Leaning against the wall outside the PT room in the St. Louis visitors clubhouse, I tug at my hair. Millie’s been taking care of everyone for so long, it’s like she doesn’t know how to let anyone else take care of her. She’s more worried about a fucking bird than herself, and it makes me want to claw through the cement wall to get home to her.
“Because I can help you.” From the sounds in the background, I assume she might be at a mechanic shop now. “Are you getting it looked at?”
“Yeah. It’s a blown gasket.”
“From that leak,” I guess. “Fried your engine.”
She doesn’t disagree. In fact, she doesn’t speak for a long time.
“What?” I prod. “What’s wrong?”
“It might be totaled.”
No surprise there. It’s a cardboard box with wheels. Still, I heave a sigh. “Not a big deal?”
“No. I’ll figure it out. I can maybe borrow my cousin’s car or get a ride share to your place to feed Harold.”
