Page 59 of The Guy in the Alley

And his self-esteem…

“Sure. Friends,” I said.

What exactly did he mean by friends?

* * *

I was going to show him.

For some bizarre reason, he wanted me in his life, so I was gonna make sure I earned my spot.

Never in a million years had I thought he’d be upset with me for so long just because I’d left.

I should be questioning his taste in friends.

Friends…

Fucking hell. I’d set myself up for heartbreak now, hadn’t I? But he was worth it. Despite that it was difficult to believe my actions had caused harm, I’d never thought I’d speak to him again, much less share a bed.

Part of me was desperate to hope, though. Starting my new job on Monday would make me feel like a human again, and I could finally contribute properly. So…I’d be here. I’d help whenever I could. I’d be his friend.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Trace Kalecki

He should be back by now, shouldn’t he?

Even though we’d officially exchanged numbers, I couldn’t shake the fear that he’d split.

“Unca Trace, look at me!”

I looked over to the main dining area, where Chip was currently doing cartwheels between the tables.

“You don’t even pretend to be sick, chipster,” I told him.

He jumped up and bobbed his head to the music. “I swear my tummy hurts!”

Uh-huh. Sarah was just a sucker. He liked his kindergarten just fine, same with his babysitter, but none of them came close to Uncle Trace. And I couldn’t blame him. I was awesome. I let him run wild in the restaurant while I treated the bar area as my unboxing station for soup kitchen supplies.

Since we were closed on Mondays, I used the day to catch up on paperwork—as in, send that shit to Ma—and prepare for this week’s soup kitchen services. The floor was flooded with the hygiene kits we were restocking, and I’d do the energy kits next.

Speaking of Ma, she should be here soon too. She and Dad were heading back to Florida tonight, and she wouldn’t waste a moment to dig into my personal life. Ben had started feeling better after being dead to the world for nine hours, and he’d come down, all disoriented from sleep, and bitched at me for not waking him up. Then he’d taken his spot at the bread station, and of course, Ma had noticed. She knew I didn’t date—and loved to remind me how much that “broke her heart.”

“He’s just a friend, Ma. Chill.”

“Who spent the night upstairs where you only have one bed?”

She could be so annoying.

I could be slow too, ’cause it hadn’t occurred to me to tell her that we’d moved the foldable bed into one of the spare rooms or anything.

“Can’t I keep Ziggy over here, Uncle Trace?” Chip asked. Sadly, “Unca” was slowly turning into “Uncle.” My nephew was growing up. “He won’t mess up the bags!”

I smirked and dropped another travel-size body wash into a bag. “It’s not about him messing up what I’m doing here, buddy. We can’t have pets in the restaurant. People have allergies.”

Apparently, Ben was one of them, and he’d been surprised that he hadn’t reacted to Ziggy. Then he’d also reasoned that it was mostly cats that bothered him.

Where was he?

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