Page 12 of The Outsider

“Why?” he asked.

“I don’t smoke either. Anymore. Because I can’t afford it. I would like a cigarette, though.”

“It’s bad for you,” he said.

She looked up at him, made sure to angle her face just right so he could see the scab under her chin. “Is there something about me that says I’m all about living a superhealthy lifestyle?”

He gave her a dispassionate look, those intense blue eyes flickering over her. It made her feel vaguely uncomfortable.

“I don’t suppose.”

“Do I look like I’ve ever touched kale?”

“Can’t say as you do.”

“I don’t even know what kale is,” she said. “I’m a whole-ass mess.”

“Well now, you’re not that bad.”

She got out of the car. “Here for a good time, not a long time.”

“You don’t look like you’re here for a good time either, Bix. You look like you’ve been around for a hard time.”

“Rude,” she said.

But there was something about that that slid under her skin and made her feel fragile.

Ithadbeen a hard time.

Something about acknowledging that made her throat go all tight.

Wow. Suck it up, Bix.

There were plenty of people who had it way worse. There was a whole catalog of shit she hadn’t been through. And some she had been. But whatever. That was life. She wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Hell, she wasn’t even born with a plastic spoon in her mouth. She didn’t take anything for granted; she couldn’t afford to. And she didn’t sit around feeling sorry for herself, because she didn’t have that kind of time.

She sniffed and walked toward the front of the house. He moved up behind her, and unlocked the door.

She tried to keep from flinching. He was so close that she could feel the warmth emanating from his body.

He just smelled so good. He managed to smell like the pine trees, the dirt and the air, but it didn’t seem like lingering poverty clinging to his skin.

It smelled fresh. Clean.

He threw his keys on the coffee table next to what looked like a very nice couch. It was a small place, but it was perfectly well ordered, just like the outside. Andeverything inside was in great condition. It was warm in there. She felt a stinging pressure at the back of her eyes, and she ignored it.

“Hang tight,” he said.

He disappeared down the hallway and returned with a black sweatshirt and a pair of black sweatpants. “These are going to be a little big.”

She blinked up at him. If they were his, they were going to be more than a little big. But maybe they were his wife’s?

For some reason, she felt instantly bothered by the fact he might have a wife.

“These belong to some woman you fucked?”

She didn’t know why it came out like that. She didn’t know why she was being mean. He might actually be doing something kind for her. But she couldn’t wrap her head around it. And so, she couldn’t accept it. And she sure as hell couldn’t be nice.

“No,” he said. “They’re mine. From police academy. But the drawstring on those pants cinches pretty tight.”

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