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“Yeah, I guess so,” she shakes her head.
“Are you going to give it to him?” I hedge, really hoping she doesn’t do that to herself.
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I just paid my rent and electric, so until payday, I’ve got enough to get to work and back,” she rolls her eyes, slumping back against the doorjamb.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to offer her help, but I’m sort of in the same boat as her, barely staying afloat. I can’t afford to help anyone else out right now. Not to mention I would be afraid of Louis just stealing whatever money I did loan her and using it on stupid bullshit. So, instead of doing what my heart urged me to do, I kept my mouth shut.
Glancing up at the clock, I will the next two hours to go by quickly so that I can get on the road and get to Bodhi’s and just relax. It isn’t lost on me how only weeks ago, the thought of being anywhere near him made me spitting mad, and now, on a day like today, he’s the only person I really want to be near.
What the hell have I gone and done?
Chapter 23
After Keaton texted to tell me she was on her way from work, I placed an order for pizza delivery and then did one last sweep of my house to make sure everything was remotely clean. I knew it would take her roughly thirty minutes to drive out, and I made a mental note to refill the gas tank while she was here. I know that’s a long drive that she wouldn’t have had to make had I not asked her to.
Once the pizza arrives, I carry everything into the kitchen and arrange it neatly on the island, setting out plates and napkins. I see her pull up to the gate about 10 minutes later.
I hurry toward the front door, checking my reflection in the mirror over my entryway table before she knocks.
She’s seen you before, dumbass.
Turning, I watch her through the sidelight window as she approaches the door, and I lean forward to peer through it when she doesn’t knock.
She looks to be waging an internal war with herself, unsure of whether she’s going to actually knock, and right when I think she might not, I step forward and yank the door open to greet her.
“Hey, you made it,” I say, as if I didn’t just witness her pull up the drive.
“Yup, just got here… obviously,” she says that last part under her breath and I chuckle.
“Come on in, the pizza is in the kitchen,” I say, standing back as I gesture for her to come inside.
She walks in hesitantly, and I close the door behind her. She takes in my home, and I stop for a moment, trying to see it the way she might. It’s way bigger than I need, but I love how open and bright it is.
“The kitchen is just this way,” I say, leading her toward the spread of food.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” I ask as she settles in.
“Yeah, sure. Uh… water?”
“Water with pizza? That’s gross,” I say, openly judging her, albeit playfully.
“Well, it’s not my first choice,” she says as she pulls a slice of pizza from the box and places it on the plate in front of her.
“Okay, what would be your first choice, then?”
“Probably a beer, but seeing as I’m here to race you, I’ll venture to say that’s probably not the best idea.”
“True,” I concede, before turning back to the fridge. “What about a soda?” I call over my shoulder.
“Yeah, that works.”
I grabbed two cans and join her at the bar, and we eat in companionable silence for the first few minutes.
“So, how was your day?” I ask.
With a mouth full of food, she cuts her eyes in my direction, conveying exactly what kind of day she had in a single look.
I laugh before saying, “That bad, huh?”
