Second Chance Boyfriend(7)

I hesitate. Is this a mistake, climbing into his car with him? I’m not afraid of Colin yet I am afraid of the situation I might be putting myself in. He’s a flirt but I notice he flirts with pretty much everyone who works for him—and the customers. He never crosses a line, he’s always polite and knows when to step back if need be.

But am I giving him mixed signals by allowing him to pick me up for work? He just happens to be near my apartment so he can swing by and get me? I don’t believe it.

Not for a second.

“Did you come here specifically to pick me up?” I ask him the minute he climbs back into the car and slams the door.

He turns to look at me, our faces awfully close. The car is nice but small and the setting is rather intimate. He smells like expensive cologne and leather and I wonder for a quick minute if I could actually feel something for this guy.

I realize just as quickly that I can’t. My heart is still tied up in knots over someone else. Someone unreal.

“You’re pretty straightforward, aren’t you?” Colin asks, his eyes gleaming in the dim interior.

“It’s better than doling out a bunch of lies, right?” I arch a brow.

Laughing, he shakes his head as he puts the car into gear. “Right. I really was in the neighborhood, Fable. And I remembered you lived around here so that’s why I texted you. I know you don’t always have access to a car.”

I’ve worked at his restaurant for three shifts and he already knows all this information about me. Is that a sign of a good boss or a creeper? “I had my mom’s car today.”

He pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road, his hand draped casually over the steering wheel, his other arm resting on the center console. There’s an easiness to him. No, make that effortlessness. He makes everything appear like he could get whatever he wants out of life and he deserves every bit of it too.

I envy him that. It’s a confidence I could never hope for.

“Want me to take you back so you can drive it?” There’s amusement lacing his deep voice. He must think I’m a joke.

“No.” I sigh. This is stupid. What are we doing? “I won’t have a ride home, though.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

I don’t bother answering him.

I remain quiet, picking at my cuticles as he drives, both of us silent. My hands are dry, my cuticles bad and I think of the other girls I work with who have perfect manicures and pedicures and I literally look like the still slightly ragged Cinderella who’s been finally pulled out of the basement and set to work among the glittering, beautiful princesses. I might shine but rub me a little bit and the tarnish comes through relatively easy.

I feel…less than when I’m at my new job. And I don’t like that.

“Nasty habit,” Colin says, breaking the thickening silence. “You should go get your nails done.”

Okay, that irritates the crap out of me. His assumptions are rude. “I can’t afford it.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

“Hell, no,” I practically snarl. His offer irritates me more.

Colin ignores me. “And while you’re at it, you should go see a hairstylist. I’ll pay for that too. There’s too much bleach in your hair and it looks damaged.”

The nerve. This guy is such an asshole. Why did I agree to work for him again? Oh yeah, the money. Greediness is going to get the best of me, I just know it. It’s led to two really stupid decisions already. “Who are you? The fashion police?”

“No, but I’m your boss and at The District we have certain criteria that we need to maintain.”

“So why did you hire me? You knew what you were getting.”

“I saw your potential,” he said softly. “Do you, Fable? Do you see it?”

I couldn’t answer him. Because the truth wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

No.



Drew



I’m in class though I don’t want to be. I took a lighter load after my supreme screwup of the fall semester. Why risk temptation again? I’ll have to make it up over the summer break by taking a few extra courses, but I don’t care. Where else would I go?

Not home, that’s for damn sure.

At least while I’m on campus, I feel somewhat normal. I can forget about my dad and Adele and what she told me. I haven’t spoken to her since the last time I called her and made her tell me everything. I barely talk to my dad either. He knows something’s wrong with me, but doesn’t push. I know something’s wrong with him too, and I don’t push either. What’s the point? Do I really want to find out what’s wrong?

No.

I move through the day like a robot, checking in and checking out. The longer I’m alone, the more in my head I get. Remembering I promised Jace I would go to Logan’s birthday party this Saturday fills me with a sort of panic I don’t like to focus on. I have to do this. Dr. Harris said I need to make like a real person again and she’s right.