Page 27 of Downpour

“You like me,” I said, closing my eyes and soaking in the sun.

Ray just grunted.

We spent an hour in companionable silence. Ray tied pattern after pattern, and I studied the cloud shapes high in the sky.

“So has it worked?” I asked when the sun came out from behind the clouds and blinded me.

“Has what worked?”

I pawed around in my bag for my sunglasses, but ended up pulling out my bag of Sweet Tarts. “Me being here. Has your family left you alone?”

“Mostly,” he said with a hint of frustration. His hands must have been getting tired because he was having trouble tying the knot.

“Why do you tie knots all the time?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?”

“Because I like you.”

His dark brows knitted together. “You shouldn’t.”

“I do. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He eyed my candies.

“Want one?” I wiggled the bag around. “It’s mostly green and yellow ones now.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Why am I offering you one?”

“No. Why are the green and yellow ones left?”

“Oh. Because I don’t like those,” I said as I spotted a coveted blue candy. The blue ones were the best.

Ray reached out and slowly uncurled his fingers. “Green.”

I dropped three in his palm. He tossed them back like pills and crunched on the candies.

“So, what’s with the rope?”

“I didn’t say we were talking.”

“I’m just curious,” I said as I found a pink one.

“Do you want me to fire you?”

“I thought asking questions in the workplace was encouraged.”

“It’s not.”

“Come on. Tell me something,” I begged. “I’ve been so good.”

Ray lifted an eyebrow.

I pressed my palms together. “Please.”

He huffed. “My fine motor skills are shit.”

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