One Broke Girl (10 page)

“You’re the one with the cute costume.”

Bianca threw a glare at me over her shoulder. “Don’t be a crabass. Come have fun. We’re getting paid to stand in costumes and be dorks. Less stress than scooping mac and cheese or delivering pizza, isn’t it?”

My pizza joint had asked us to fill in for two high schoolers who were supposed to stand out front and be walking billboards. The kids had bailed, so we’d agreed to take their places.

Bianca was right though. I should stop being so crabby and start having fun. At least my costume was thick enough to keep me from getting chilly in the early November air. I reached over and squeezed Bianca’s butt through the pizza padding.

“Holy shit!” Bianca said with a howling laugh as she jumped out of the way. She wagged her finger at me. “You gotta buy me a drink first, sister.”

I planted my free hand on my hip and shook my head at her. For the next half hour, we stood on the sidewalk in front of the pizza joint and did a wild array of dances, from booty grinding to silly. Cars honked, and people whooped and hollered as they passed.

“I gotta admit,” I said as I lifted my mask to draw in a gulp of fresh air, “this is kinda fun.”

“See? Making money doesn’t always have to be crappy.” Bianca did some kind of ‘20s dance and kicked her feet in the air as she thrust the cardboard toward the street. “I’m glad you asked me to join you.” She paused and turned to me, and I saw a particular gleam in her eye that set off warning bells in my head. “So, how was the rest of your Friday with Gavin?”

“He dropped me off at home like a gentleman,” I said primly.

“Too bad. I bet he’s a total sex tiger in the sack.”

“I do have a boyfriend, you know.”

“Mm-hm.” She raised a defiant brow at me. “And you seem excited about him too.”

Yowch. Fair point, but still.

Bianca sighed and smoothed hair behind her ears as the wind picked up. The tip of her nose and her cheeks were turning a pale pink. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch. I’m just…brutally honest, I guess. But I do have to wonder—why are you with Steven? What’s keeping you two together? Because you don’t seem that happy with him.”

I bit my lip and lowered my mask before I took a step toward her. “Can I talk to you honestly? Just between us?”

“Of course.” She crossed her fingers over her heart. Her eyes were sincere.

I took a few minutes to catch her up on what was going on—the decreased contact from both me and Steven, the increased sexual tension with Gavin. To her credit, she stayed quiet and let me barf it all out.

“I’m so confused,” I admitted as I gave the cardboard sign a halfhearted wave. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you want my advice?”

“God, please.”

“Dump the boyfriend and date the hottie.” Bianca turned to wiggle her butt at the street, the sign turned backward so passersby could see it.

My heart thudded, and I whooshed out a lungful of air. The exhaled breath puffed around my face. “But doesn’t that make me fickle? Dumping him because I’m finding myself attracted to someone else? What about commitment?”

“Are you two married?”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, no. Of course not.”

“Okay, are you engaged?” She paused. “Have you even said the L word?”

That made me still.

“Honey. If you loved him, you wouldn’t have noticed Gavin. You’d be too busy crying over missing him and asking for his help to get you back to New York.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “You gotta at least be honest with yourself, if no one else.”

Did I love Steven? He was fun and warm. When I needed him to listen, he was there for me. I cared about him a lot, of course. Otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to be his girlfriend.

But love? Neither one of us had said the word yet. Which meant maybe he probably didn’t feel it either. Or maybe I just hadn’t given him a chance to tell me or show me. After all, we hadn’t been dating that long before I’d upped and moved on him.

My phone buzzed. I dug into the ape suit pocket and peered at the screen. It was Steven calling—speak of the devil.

I let it go to voicemail.

Bianca faced the street and paced up and down the sidewalk to wave and wink at customers. I did the same, though my brain was overflowing. Yes, I needed to be honest—and honestly, while I liked Steven, I didn’t like everything about him.

Like the way he’d sent me pictures yesterday of three expensive pairs of shoes he’d bought on a whim. It was hard to not resent the way he spent cash like it didn’t matter, given how much I was scrambling for cash. I struggled with feeling like he was flaunting his money, even though logically I knew that wasn’t what he was doing.

He didn’t know about my situation, after all. Didn’t know that over ninety percent of our belongings had been sold to pay our bills.

When my phone buzzed again to let me know he’d left a voicemail, I ignored it, stuck my head up high and continued waving the sign. The rest of the day passed. Thankfully, Bianca had dropped the issue, and when we collected our cash at the end of our shift, we whipped off the costumes with relief and went out for celebratory hot dogs.

That night, while lying in bed, I realized I hadn’t checked Steven’s voicemail. In fact, I hadn’t thought about him at all.

The realization left me unsettled long into the night.

I scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spot on the stainless-steel counter until it finally cleaned up. “Suck on
that,
grime,” I declared as I put away the cleaning supplies. It was kinda sad how much of a thrill I got nowadays from getting a countertop clean. I had to admit, being a lunch lady wasn’t that bad.

The doors to the kitchen burst open, and Gavin stepped inside. Instantly my heart did that pitter-patter thing it did whenever I saw him. Every day this week, I’d found myself lingering up front near the serving counters just to get a glimpse of his face.

And every day, his eyes had sought mine back.

“Anna,” he said, and my stomach tightened at the way those sexy lips pronounced my name. “I need your help. Are you free for about twenty minutes?”

I squelched a dirty thought and grabbed my bag and coat. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Can you come talk to my class about nutrition?”

Okay, not what I was expecting. A flare of panic pushed away the simmer of attraction. “You want me to teach?”

He took a step toward me; I fisted my hands at my sides to restrain myself from reaching out to touch him. His shrug was casual. I tried to not stare at the definition of those broad shoulders. Oh man, this was getting so much harder to fight. “It’s for the children,” he said in a mock solemn tone as he pressed a hand to his chest. “Don’t you want to be a part of their bright futures?”

“You lay it on pretty thick when you want to, Mr. Metcalf,” I said.

“Is that a yes?” His eyes drilled into mine.

My nod was quick. “Sure. I’d be happy to.” I had no idea what the hell I was going to say, but I could wing it. They were just kindergarteners after all. Hell, they barely knew what a carrot was.

I closed up the kitchen, following him into the hallway and toward his classroom. I ripped the hairnet off and crammed it into my purse. It was super hard to not watch his tight ass as he walked in front of me. The man could rock a pair of Dockers like no one I’d ever seen.

Steven, Steven, Steven,
I chanted to myself as I fixed my gaze on the ground. I still had a boyfriend. One I’d been kinda sorta avoiding for the last three days. And I knew exactly why—because every day, I found myself pulling away from him more and more.

I shoved aside those conflicted thoughts as we stepped into Gavin’s colorful kindergarten classroom.

“Class,” he said in a quiet but authoritative tone.

I had to admit, something about that cool confidence almost made my panties get wet. Somehow I knew he’d be like that in bed—smooth, dominant, his hands sliding across my—

“—Miss Parker,” he was saying, and then he turned to look expectantly at me.

Shit. The entire class was now seated on the rug, their beady little eyes drilling into mine.

“Miss Parker, would you like to have a seat over there?” he said with one brow raised. He waved at the seat in front of the rug then dropped his voice. “It might be more comfortable than standing here awkwardly.”

I gave a nervous chuckle as my stomach flipped. “Oh, yes. Of course. Sure.” My feet were wooden as I dropped into the seat, and I clenched my hands in my lap. I peered up at him in desperation, hoping he’d take the hint and give me a little guidance on what he wanted from me.

“Miss Parker is one of our cafeteria workers,” he said smoothly to the class. “She was super nice to agree to talk to you guys today about nutrition, such as what makes for a healthy meal.”

I sat up. Okay, yeah. I could do this. “Yes,” I said in what I hoped was a confident tone. “Um, so it’s important to eat three meals a day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

“We call it supper in my house,” one black-haired boy with a thick country accent said.

I nodded. “That’s the same as dinner. Let’s start with breakfast. Who likes cereal?”

Pretty much every hand shot up in the air.

“Oh, oh, Miss Parker!” one girl said from the back.

“Yes…”

“Emily,” Gavin supplied.

“Emily,” I continued. “Do you have a question?”

“Uh-huh.” She paused. “I really love Corn Pops.” She nibbled on her thumbnail.

The kids around her nodded.

Okay? Not a question, but whatever. I gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s nice. What other breakfast food do you guys like?”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do, because for the next several seconds I was bombarded with chaos. Kids were screaming over top of each other to make sure I heard how much they loved bacon and eggs, French toast and pancakes.

Gavin clapped his hands twice, and the furor died down. “Miss Parker,” he said gently. “Sometimes it’s easier if you ask them each a direct question instead. That way they can stay focused and not start yelling.”

Shit. My face burned with embarrassment. My nod was stilted. “Sure. Sorry.”

He dragged a chair over, sat beside me then leaned close, and his lips almost brushed my earlobe. “You’re doing great. Just trying to help a bit since you seem nervous. Don’t let me get in your way though. You’re the expert here.”

I was in a kindergarten classroom, surrounded by five-year-olds, but all I could focus on was the way his breath caressed my skin, how my flesh came alive from the brief contact. Need coiled in my belly, and I bit my lower lip, giving him a smile I was sure wasn’t as friend-like as I’d intended it to be.

For the next couple of minutes, I talked about how food could be grouped into different categories, that it was important to eat lots of fruits, veggies and grains.

“Who knows what a carrot is?” I asked.

“A vegetable!” the high voices yelled back at me.

I beamed and clapped. “You guys are super smart!”

“Miss Parker,” a sweet-faced black boy said from the front row, his hand flapping in the air. “What group do beans fit in?”

I paused. Shit, I had no idea. Vegetables maybe? “Um…”

“My mommy said tomatoes are fruit, but they don’t taste sweet,” another girl added. “Why?”

“What’s a parsnip?” a third kid yelled.

“Hold on,” I declared and pulled out my phone with one hand, the other flying up to stop their questions. “The wise person knows that when she doesn’t know something, she takes the time to look up the right answers. So I’m going to use my phone to help me find these answers, okay?”

Gavin stayed quiet by my side as I fielded all their weird food questions through the power of Google search. We learned that beans were considered protein, that tomatoes were, indeed, a fruit, and that parsnips looked like carrots but were an earthy light brown color and tasted nutty.

“Okay, everyone,” Gavin finally said as he stood. “Let’s show Miss Parker how much we appreciate her time.”

The class burst into applause, and I stood and curtseyed. A few giggles erupted from kids, who stood to curtsey back to me.

“And now it’s quiet time, so let’s find our napping spots.” Gavin took my elbow and led me to the door as the kids jumped off the rug, grabbed their mats from their cubbies and dropped to the ground. “Thank you,” he whispered with a genuine smile, appreciation ringing in his eyes. “I’d like to take you out to dinner tonight as thanks.” He paused. “Strictly in friendship, of course.”

I was blindsided by the disappointment that hit me from those last words, which made me feel ashamed of myself. These terms had been at my insistence. Guilt made me tip my chin up and give him a fake, broad smile. “I’d be delighted. Thank you.” I gave him my number in case he needed to reach me, and when he took my phone to enter in his number, his fingers brushed the tips of mine.

The whole way home, I tried to not focus on the delicious sensations of Gavin’s bare skin on me.

“This is probably the best burger I’ve ever had,” I declared as I took a massive bite of the cheeseburger. I closed my eyes and enjoyed. It had been far too long since I’d been able to eat a meal that hadn’t come from a package.

Gavin’s chuckle was low. “Glad you’re enjoying it. This is one of my favorite places.”

We were currently seated in a booth at a burger joint in a nearby town. Gavin had insisted on picking me up and driving, which was good since I didn’t think it would be a comfortable ride for both of us on my bike. I had on a form-fitting sweater, a pretty floral skirt and my sassy red heels. I’d told myself that I was simply excited to have a reason to dress nicely. That, as a friend, Gavin would appreciate my effort.

But seeing the brief, heated look in his eyes as he’d seen my bare legs had made my core throb in response.

Oh, I was flirting with danger here, and I knew it. This was so wrong. I could try to lie to myself all I wanted, but I’d dressed this way to entice him. I knew it. He knew it.

And that tension had been crackling between us nonstop.

I cleared my throat and turned my attention to my fries.