Kulti(109)
Oh dear God. “Yeah, Dad.” I blinked at him and stood off the to the side to give him room to come in. “You coming in—“ I eyed his bag again “—or are you leaving?”
“I’m leaving,” he said even as he walked into my place, still giving my workout clothes this disapproving scowl.
“Where are you going?” I closed the door behind him.
Kulti dropped his bag right by my work boots. “To Austin.”
“Really? Why?” I mean, I liked Austin as much as anyone. I’d been there a hundred times in my life, but it wasn’t my favorite city in the world. I wouldn’t expect this guy to want to spend his days off in Austin when he could afford to go just about anywhere.
The German made his way toward my kitchen and straight to the cupboards, pulling out a mug. “I have an appointment this afternoon.”
Why the first thing I thought he was referring to was plastic surgery, I had no idea. I planted my hands on the counter between us and leaned forward, giving him a disbelieving look. “No.”
He glanced over his shoulder as he found a small pot and began filling it up with water from my fridge. “Yes?”
“Rey, buddy, don’t do it. You’re still really handsome, and honestly you can always tell when someone’s had surgery done to them. I don’t care what the plastic surgeon says, it’s noticeable,” I told him totally seriously.
He set the pot down on the stovetop but he didn’t turn the burner on. His broad shoulders slumped forward as he lifted a hand and pinched the tip of his nose. When he turned around to face me, his eyes were closed and the tip of his tongue was at the corner of his mouth. “Burrito.” He opened one eye. “I’m getting my tattoo worked on.”
“Ohh.” Well, I felt like an idiot.
He nodded, the movement all smart-ass.
“The one on your arm?” It was the only one I knew of.
He nodded again.
Why he was going all the way to Austin when there were about a million tattoo shops in Houston was beyond me, but whatever. “That’s neat. I’m going back home.” I then realized he didn’t know what ‘home’ was to me. “San Antonio. It’s close to Austin.”
Kulti shocked the shit out of me when he said “I know. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to take me to Austin.”
“What?”
“I will pay you a thousand dollars to take me to Austin.” He gestured with his head toward the bag that had been left by the door. “Gas as well.”
I scratched my nose, trying to make sure he wasn’t joking. My gut said he wasn’t. He definitely wasn’t. “You want me to drive you to Austin for your appointment?” I couldn’t help but ask.
The German nodded.
“All right.” I narrowed my eyes at him, debating how to go about this and deciding there was no pretty way. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a bad friend who doesn’t appreciate your generous offer, but… why don’t you have your driver take you?”
“His daughter’s birthday is today,” he explained.
“And you want me to drive you, even though you could just pay someone else less money to take you?” I asked slowly.
“Yes.”
Oh brother. The lazy part of me that was dead set on spending four days with my parents, didn’t want to drive Kulti around. Then the other half of me felt bad telling him no. “I was planning on spending the weekend at my parents’, I can’t drive you back here right after your appointment.”
He lifted up a single bulky shoulder. “I don’t have anything else to do.”
Score one for Sal being a fucking douche bag.
He didn’t have anything else to do.
Why did that make me feel so shitty?
But I couldn’t let him make me feel bad. I couldn’t back out on my parents. “Rey, I’m spending the weekend there. I can’t drive you back. I already promised them I would go.”
“I heard you the first time,” he replied in a tone I was not a fan of. “I said I don’t have anything else to do. I’ll stay with you.”
He’d stay—
He’d stay with me?
An image of my dad fainting flashed through my mind.
“Stay with me at my parents’?”
He lifted another lazy shoulder. “Yes.”
“For the weekend?”
The smart-ass rolled his eyes. “Ja.”
Snarky bastard.
“Is that a problem?” he asked after a moment of me not saying anything.
I cleared my throat and thought of my dad again. “Remember my dad was a big fan of yours?” He nodded. “He’s a huge fan, you have to understand that if you want to go and—“ I gulped, “stay with them. He might faint and act like he doesn’t speak English the entire weekend.” Then I thought about it. “And stare, he might stare at you and not say a word.”