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My fingers clench into a fist by my side as the irritation builds inside of me.
Was she not listening to a word I told her last night?
She thought I was fucking around in Austin, and she had to go and check if she was clean?
“What?” I blink, my gaze falling on her squared shoulders. “But I told you Linda has to leave early, so I needed you to pick me up,” Rebecca says to whoever is on the other side of the line. She listens for a moment. “I know, but somebody has to take care of Mom. Fine, I’ll figure it out.” Silence. “No, I’ll figure it out.”
She hangs up the phone, letting her hand drop.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice coming out gruff.
I was still pissed as hell that she thought so little of me. Not just that, that she didn’t believe a word I said. What did that say about last night? What did I want it to say?
I had no fucking clue.
“Chase was supposed to pick me up from work, but he got a call from the shelter.”
“Shelter?”
“He volunteers. He helps them catch the runaways, and he even started training some of them to see if any have working-dog potential. Which is great. At least he leaves the house to go somewhere. I just wished he’d come when I needed him.”
“You going home?”
“I—”
“What are you still doing here?” A short brunette comes from the kitchen, a tray in hand. “Didn’t you say you have to go home early?”
“I do, I just don’t have…”
“I’ll take you home.”
Rebecca turns around. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m going there anyway.”
The same words I said last night echo in the space between us. Rebecca remembers it too. Her throat bobs as she swallows, but I can see some of that resolve crumbling.
“C’mon, Red, you said you were in a hurry. I can get you there in no time. And I promise, no sidetracking.”
Her cheeks turn beet red. The other woman glances between the two of us with interest.
“Fine, I’m just going to grab my stuff.”
Nodding, I watch her slip through the door behind the counter, my eyes falling on the curve of her ass peeking from underneath the shorts. Raising my hand, I rub at my chin.
Get a grip, dude.
Of course, the girl catches me staring, a knowing smirk on her lips.
“Gage!” I yell, turning toward the back of the café. “We’re leaving.”
The boy comes rushing back just as Rebecca joins us, a bag in hand.
“Thanks for doing this, Jessica,” Rebecca says as we start toward the door.
“You know it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Pulling the door open, my hand slides to the small of her back. I can feel her shudder at my touch, but she doesn’t say anything as we make our way to the car.
