Page 72 of Cinder
But when I walk into the kitchen again, Lars is leaning against the counter drinking his coffee. Watching me.
“Something you want to get off your chest?” he asks as I walk by him to put the mop and bucket away.
“I’m busy is all. Mrs. V. will kill me if I don’t have these floors done before she gets back.” I force myself to give him a smile, because he hasn’t done anything wrong. He could have a hundred Bambis in his room and it shouldn’t matter to me.
“They look pretty good to me. Have a coffee with me. I want to talk to you about something.”
I didn’t notice it before, but there is a freshly poured cup sitting on the counter next to him. He picks it up and hands it to me.
“You sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?” he asks, watching me take a sip.
I feel foolish for being so hurt about him spending the night with Bambi. I have no claim to him. Even if things had gotteninterestingbetween us only a few hours beforehand.
When you fled like a weirdo.
“I followed you home last night,” he says.
That catches me off guard.
“You stalking me now?” I say, a little too defensively, as I put my cup down on the counter.
“It’s my job,” he says seriously. “You were so adamant you didn’t want a ride home, it got me curious.”
“Forgive me for not wanting to climb on the back of your bike. I’m sure there’s a long list of girls who would like to.”
Okay, what the fuck was that?
Lars ignores it. “A girl like you doesn’t live in a dive like that.”
“You don’t know what kind of girl I am.”
“You’re right, I don’t know anything about you. But I do know that you don’t belong at the Blue Lagoon.”
“And where do I belong, in your bedroom like Bambi? She looked pretty happy when I saw her coming out of there thismorning. Or was that just for last night and there’ll be someone else warming your bed tonight?”
Fuck, what the hell was that? It’s like I opened my mouth and vomited my mood all over the floor.
But Lars looks unfazed.
In fact, he completely ignores my outburst. “Why are you living in a motel?”
“Because I’m in between homes.”
“I thought you were living with a friend. The one who picked you up the other night.”
I’ve got a friend waiting for me.
“I never said I was living with them,” I say.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t have to tell you shit.”
I try to walk past him, but he stops me. “The Blue Lagoon is the bottom of the barrel.”
“Well I can’t afford anywhere other than the bottom of the barrel.”
He pulls out a wad of cash from his jeans. One of those wads of cash you see in the movies.
