Page 46 of Bad Seed
Not really. I can count on one hand the number of full nights of sleep I’ve had in two weeks. Maybe I should ask for a sick day. Climb under the covers and pray for my brain to turn off. It could at least find a new channel other than the all Aubry Gene all the time one it’s obsessed with.
“Well—”
“Good,” my manager interrupts. “Get those stocked, then break down boxes. And if you can’t manage it before your shift ends…”
“I’ll stay late,” I promise. He doesn’t tell me to clock out first, but I know the look. I’m close to my forty hours and they’d rather let rats run loose in the store than pay us a full time wage.
With a curt nod, he storms off to go make someone else’s day awful. I bend over to adjust the jars when the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Instinct causes me to drop my ass so I’m hunching over the box. Even if no one slaps it, or pinches it, or does a quick thrust behind me, I’m sure someone will say something.
They always do.
What the hell is wrong with me?
It’s like I’m living outside my body. I know what I need to do. Delete his number. Forget him. Focus on work. Renew my driver’s license. Send those RAW pics to the client for approval. Edit…
I yawn, unable to hide what my face already gave away.
I’m not exhausted, I’m haunted. Every time I close my eyes, or lay down, or see a spaghetti commercial, his ghost is there begging to fuck me.
“Excuse me…”
Great. Now I’m hearing him outside of my head.
The jars give a warning jangle as I heft the box and stride toward the section they belong in. Which is…?
“Ah. Could I—?” The man following me won’t give up.
“The bargain cave is back there,” I say, pointing in its direction. “By the bathrooms.”
“Sadie.” Fingers glide up my forearm. Rather than wrench away, my skin sparkles like a rain of glitter. I swivel my head, fearing I’ll watch my deranged hallucination fade away.
Aubry gives a little smile. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Shit, he can’t see me like this. I haven’t washed my hair in… And my clothes are… Did I put any makeup on today? Or brush my teeth?
What’s he doing here? Does he really think he can ignore me for days, and I’ll just jump on his dick with a snap of his fingers?
Fuck, is he wearing a henley? With the top buttons open? And his sleeves rolled up!
No. No, I must be strong. Do not look at his wrists!
For the sake of my own sanity, I dig into my anger. And keep my back to him so I’m not undone by his beauty. “About what? If you’re looking for a quick lay, I’m afraid I’m busy tonight.”
“You’re angry at me,” he sighs and slows. My traitorous steps do too.
“Angry? No. Why would I be angry?”I am cool and calm. A stream winding through a mountain. He means nothing to me. I am not bothered by…
I revolve around, slam the box into my hip, and shout, “It’s not like you left me on read. For four days!”
Only the gurgles of the fake waterfalls fill the silence. I glance over to find we’ve stopped before the giant mountain with goats climbing up the side and fish swimming in the tank below. It’s a lightning rod for customers who now are all watching the crazy employee shout at a man far too attractive for her.
“Can I explain?” he asks, folding his hands into a prayer.
No. I spent all of Saturday crying. Not over you, not really. But the fact that I am too hideous to be seen in public with you. That you can get hard as rock when I’m naked, but fade from existence if I so much as text you. My self esteem didn’t nose dive, it cratered its way to the center of the earth and is still down there roasting in the core.
Grinding my teeth, I stare him up and down, and spit out, “Fine.”
He breathes a sigh of relief, like he’s been worrying about my response. Worrying he won’t get his dick wet more like.
