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"Well, I'm fine." I flick ash onto the pavement. "Same as I was two days ago when you decided to play hero at my register."

"Didn't realize clearing a blocked lane counted as heroic."

"You know what you did."

"Yeah." He doesn't look away. "I do."

I should tell him to leave. Should finish my cigarette and go back inside before someone notices I'm talking to the customer who pissed off my boyfriend.

Instead, I hear myself say, "He's picking me up tonight."

Gabriel goes very still. "Cole, right?"

"No, the other controlling asshole in my life." I laugh. It sounds hollow. "Yes, Cole."

"You don't sound happy about it."

"I'm not." The admission slips out before I can stop it. I take another drag to cover the vulnerability. "But it doesn't matter what I want. We need to talk. Apparently."

"About what happened at the store?"

"Among other things."

Gabriel's jaw tightens. Just slightly. "Paige…"

"Don't." I cut him off. "Whatever you're about to say, just don't. I don't need advice. I don't need saving. I don't need some stranger deciding he knows what's best for me."

"I'm not trying to…"

"Yes, you are." I stub out the cigarette even though it's only half-gone. "You've been watching me for weeks like you're waiting for something. And now you're here, in the smoking area you definitely didn't need to walk through, asking if I'm okay like you have any right to that information."

"You're right," he says. "I don't have a right. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop asking."

I stare at him. This calm, tattooed stranger who appeared in my life three weeks ago and somehow decided I was worth... whatever this is.

"Why?" I ask. "Why do you care?"

He's quiet for a long moment. Something moves across his face: old pain, old guilt, something that lives deeper than this parking lot conversation.

"Because someone should," he finally says.

"Well." I pull out my pack of cigarettes. Consider lighting another one just to have something to do with my hands. "That's very noble of you. But I'm not a charity case."

"Never said you were."

"Then what am I?" The question comes out sharper than intended. Frustration bleeding through my walls. "What is this? You show up, you watch me, you intervene when nobody asked you to, and now you're lecturing me about smoking behind a supermarket. What do you want from me, Gabriel?"

"Nothing you're not willing to give."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have right now." He takes a step closer. Still not threatening. Just there. Unmovable. "I see you, Paige. I see what you're hiding. And I know you don't want help. But if you ever change your mind, if you ever need someone who'll just listen, I'm here."

"You don't even know me."

"Then let me."

I laugh. Can't help it. "You're serious."