Hector had asked me to a party when he’d stopped by that first time, and a part of me had wished I had said yes. I mean, at the time, I had figured that invitation would be once in a lifetime.
Boy, was I wrong!
After our second shift together, he’d asked if I wanted to go to a different party. And like the first time, I turned him down. Nerves and anxiety about not having anything cute to wear or what it meant to go to a party with the school’s star linebacker got the better of me.
But he didn’t seem to get the hint.
Then, three weeks ago, he stopped asking. I would have been bummed out if it hadn’t been for the fact that he seemed to always pop up of nowhere during the day.
Where we hadn’t bumped into each other before, our paths now crossed constantly during the week.
Like yesterday, for example. I’d been walking from my dorms toward the dining hall, trying to calculate if I had enough on my meal plan to get something more than my usual oatmeal, whenboom!Like magic, there he’d been. Walking next to me, he had led the way toward the special dining hall where athletes usually ate.
Nerves got the best of me then, too.
It wasn’t that I didn’t have cash on hand to cover my meal; I just hated spending extra if I didn’t need to. My tuition wasn’t fully covered, and I knew that in a couple of weeks, I’d be trying to come up with the rest.
I’d worried for nothing.
He’d filled a tray of breakfast foods and insisted on paying before leading us to a table and forcing me to hang with him for the rest of the day until my shift at the library.
Even there, he’d hung out and read while I worked, and then he’d disappeared for a while, only to reemerge when I clocked out. I had no idea how his timing was so on point, but it was.
“Lib?” His deep velvety voice snapped me out of my Crank haze and I tried to smile, but by the way he looked at me, I was almost positive I looked a little unhinged. “You sure you’re okay today?” He stepped a little closer, and my breath hitched in my throat.
No matter how much time we spent together, he always kept his distance from me. It was why I wondered if his sister had somehow forced him into hanging out with me. Not to mention he always smelled good.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I quickly folded my schedule and slipped into my back pocket.
“So, about hanging out?”
“Umm—” I licked my lips trying to figure out a way to gently turn him down.
“Hey, you guys!” Greg, our manager, popped his head into the breakroom. I watched his eyes bounce between us. Irritation flashed but quickly disappeared when our eyes connected. “It’s getting busy out there.”
“Right,” I quickly chimed. “Sorry.” Using the interruption to my advantage, I slipped past Hector, accidentally brushing my body against his. The man was visually hot, but his body felt like a radiator of heat. I heard him curse under his breath, and when I glanced at him for a split second, I thought he almost looked pissed.
Why would he want to keep hanging out if he can’t stand me being close to him?The question bounced around my head throughout my shift.
For being a Thursday, the diner was busier than usual. Thankfully, it helped the shift pass quickly until about two in the morning. The people who had been out drinking usually stopped by because they weren’t ready for their nights to end. Not only that, but for food and coffee to soak up the alcohol and help soften the blow of their impending hangovers.
When the diner was finally empty, I started to do the little things I knew would help the girls in the morning, like refilling the ketchup bottles and the saltshakers. I usually loved doing those small mindless jobs because it gave my mind a moment to wander. Before Crank had started to work here, I usually thought about the books I read for fun or a movie I’d watched or what my future apartment would look like. But since Hector had showed up at Stacked, thoughts about the huge linebacker filled my head.
Stupid, hope-inducing thoughts.
He kept asking me out.
Kept insisting on hanging out.
I tried to tell myself it was because of his sister or mom or possibly both. They had it stuck in their head that I wasn’t having fun. But why would he get a job where I worked just to hang out with me as a favor to his mom?
“Penny for your thoughts?” His deep voice cut through, and I jumped.
“Shit!” I squeaked, dropping a saltshaker and quickly bending to retrieve it. Though I didn’t need to; he had it in his hands before me.
“Crap! I mean shit! I mean, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He sounded almost as discombobulated as I felt. And somehow, that was endearing.
“Oh!” My brows felt like they were in my hairline. “You didn’t,” I lied.