Page 28 of Ribbons and Role Play
Finally, the bike rumbles to a stop by the door at the far end of the parking lot. More warmth fills my chest. He must have remembered this is the entrance I need to use to clock in. I brace myself on his shoulder and swing my leg over the seat, carefully lowering myself to the ground.
I unstrap my helmet.
“Keep it with you,” Griff says. “I’ll be back to get you later. Seven, right?”
“I have to count my till, so more like seven-ten.”
“I’ll be here.”
My heart soars.
My afternoon rolls downhill after Griff leaves. My favorite coworker, Becky, called out sick, leaving me with no one to talk to. It’s double-coupon night, so we’re extra busy and short-staffed. Finally, around a quarter to seven my line thins down to only a trickle of customers.
I smile at the older man in front of me and hand him his change. “Have a good night.”
He nods and grabs his bag. “Thank you. I hate those self-checkout things all the stores are installing these days. I prefer a real person ringing me out.” His gaze shifts to the back of the store. “You tell ol’ Mr. Miller that.”
“I will. Thank you, sir.” As if the Millers care about anything I have to say. They’d replace every last cashier with a machine if they thought it would be cheaper.
“Good night.” He shuffles toward the exit, leaving his cart blocking my register.
Sighing, I scoot around the counter, grab the cart, and push it against the wall.
Something out of the corner of my eye moves—a person at my register. I hurry back, forcing a welcoming smile onto my tired face.
My gaze lands on Wesley. What the hell is he doing here? I glance at the few items he’s stacked on the black conveyor belt. Milk, cereal, gum. He could’ve bought that stuff anywhere.
“What’re you doing here?” I grab the carton of milk, my fingers slipping on the condensation rolling down the side and drag it over the scanner.
He lifts his chin. “Gettin’ a few things for my mom.”
“Shouldn’t you be on campus?”
He shakes his head. “No classes tomorrow. I came home early for the weekend.”
“Lucky you.” My hand curls over the top of a box of Lucky Charms and I lift an eyebrow. “For your mom too?”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Little brothers.”
“Uh-huh. Why buy it here?” I wave my hand toward the center of the store. “All the grocery items are like double what they’d cost you at Wal-Mart.” Most people only shopped at Miller’s Farms for the fresh, local produce, grass-fed meat, and imported cheese. There’s a good chance the best-by date has come and long gone on the overpriced grocery shelf items. Then again, Wesley’s family doesn’t exactly need to pinch pennies or clip coupons.
“Well, I also wanted to see you.” He can’t seem to meet my eyes and keeps shifting his gaze to the side. Either he really wants a package of beef jerky to go with his Altoids or he’s wrestling with some guilt. “Wade said you’d be here ’til closing.”
“Yup.” I glance at the register and announce the total.
He slides a credit card into the reader. “Look, I’m sorry about the other night.” A furrow forms between his brows. “I don’t remember a lot of it, but I think I was rude to you.”
“Yes, you were.” I punch the enter key on my register. Why does the system always have to take so damn long to process credit cards?
I flick my gaze up. Unfortunately, no one’s waiting in line behind Wesley. I can’t hurry him along using the excuse that I have to ring up the next customer.
Finally, the register beeps and Wesley’s receipt spits out. I turn to hand it to him and realize he hasn’t bagged his groceries yet.
Are you kidding me? Nothing frosts my cookies like able-bodied people who can’t bag their own damn groceries. I flick a paper bag out of the stack behind me and snap it open.
“Molly.” Wesley gently takes the bag and the box of cereal out of my hands, holding them out of my reach. “Are you listening to me? I’m trying to apologize.”
“Okay.” I put one hand on my hip and raise my eyebrows. “And? You want a medal? I’m fresh out.”