Me: Maybe. If you’re being serious about it.
Wynter: Duh. I’m always serious.
Me: Liar.
Wynter: Okay, you might be right about that, but I do want you to move in with me.
Me: Let me see what I can do about a job, and then we’ll talk.
Wynter: Deal. YAY!!! SO STOKED!
Chuckling, I erase the messages so my mom won’t see them when she goes through my phone after she gets home. I may be considering moving out, but the last thing I want is for them to find out before I get stuff set up. And after what happened with my dad . . .
I gulp as I stare at my bruised wrist, knowing it’s going to be intense when I tell them I’m leaving.
I spend the next hour getting ready to go to Benny’s. Knowing I’m going to see Grey, I probably primp more than I normally would. Unsure what to wear, I put on a pair of jeans and a fitted, grey T-shirt, and then cover myself up with my hoodie so I can get out of the house without my grandma scrutinizing me.
I check my email before I head out, and my heart misses a beat when I see I have a reply from Aunt Ashlynn.
Hey,
I’m so glad you responded to me. I was so worried you’d just delete the email . . . or that they’d get to it and delete it before you read it. I really want to meet you, too. I’m going to be in Fairs Hollow next Friday to do some stuff at the college, which is only a few hours away from Ridgefield. I was thinking of driving out there, and maybe we could meet somewhere and have lunch? Let me know. I hope you’ll say yes, though. I really, really want to see you.
Ashlynn.
And P.S., to your weird but very entertaining question, my birthday is July 25 th .
“It’s her!” I shout then slap my hand over my mouth.
Moments later, my bedroom door flies open, and my grandma races in. “What on earth is all that yelling about?”
“I . . . um.” I scratch at the side of my nose. “I thought I saw a bat, but it turned out just to be a moth.”
She glares at me before walking out, muttering, “Stupid girl. Bats don’t look like moths and anyone who thinks so is an idiot. Great. All my grandkids are turning out to be morons.”
Once she’s gone, I type Aunt Ashlynn a quick reply that I’d love to meet her and to email me the restaurant’s address. Then I skip out of the house and drive to Benny and Gale’s Corner Store.
Grey is stacking shelves a few aisles from the front door when I walk inside. His jeans hang low on his waist, and every time he reaches up, his shirt lifts up, revealing a speck of skin. I don’t get much time to appreciate the view of him, though, because Benny motions for me to come over.
“It’s so nice of you to do this,” he thanks me as he meets me at the front of the register. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like you to work in the office. My wife’s been on my case about shredding old receipts and stuff, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”
“Whatever you need help with, I’m your girl,” I tell him, but I’m already nervous about being in a store.
He smiles then escorts me toward the back of the store. I try not to pay attention to anything on the shelves, but as we pass by the nail polish section, I’m forced to remember what I was doing here only a couple of weeks ago.
But you’re not here for that now. You’re here to try to make up for what you’ve done, and that has to be a start of something new, right?
That’s what I try to convince myself, but I still feel guilty every time Benny smiles at me as he explains what boxes of papers need to be shredded. After he’s done giving me the rundown, he leaves me alone to go back to the counter, putting all of his trust in me, believing I’m a good person.
I’m going to be. I won’t steal, no matter what.
Benny wasn’t joking about not getting around to shredding papers. Two hours and five paper cuts later, I still have countless boxes to go through that are filled with papers and receipts dated all the way back to the 1970s.
“I can’t believe he’s kept all of these receipts for this long,” I say as I lift the lid off another box.
“It’s that bad, huh?” Grey’s voice floats over my shoulder. He’s leaning against the doorway with a backpack slung over his shoulder, gaping at the boxes and papers covering almost every inch of the small space.
Smiling, I set the lid down and turn around. “It’s crazy. There are papers in here that are fifty years old.”
“This looks just like my mom’s office.”
“Is she a pack rat?” I straighten my legs to stand up.
“She used to be,” he says, rubbing his scruffy jawline dotted with a fresh bruise. “But she’s been selling off a lot of stuff lately, so the house is pretty empty except for her office. She uses that to sort of hide all the clutter, I guess.”
“When I was little, I used to sweep all the stuff on the kitchen floor under the fridge when my mom asked me to clean up.” I weave around the boxes, making my way over to him.
“Why didn’t you just use the dust pan?”
“I don’t know. At the time, I probably thought it just took too much time to get the dustpan out. Now I wonder if I might’ve got a twisted sense of gratification when I hid all those crumbs where my mom couldn’t see them, yet they were still there.”
“You little rebel,” he teases with a grin.
“I guess I kind of was, wasn’t I?” I stop just short of him. “What are you doing back here? Or did you just sneak back to see me?”
“I’m actually getting ready to take my lunch break,” he says. “And Benny told me to come back here and see if you needed a break, too. In fact, he seemed really persistent that you not only take a break with me, but that you go eat lunch with me.”
“He said those exact words to you?” I question.
“I might have embellished a little bit.” He peeks out in the store before stepping into the room.
He keeps walking, even when he reaches me and forces me to back up until my back bumps into a shelf. Then his lips come down on mine, and he kisses me fervently as his fingers splay across the side of my neck. I tangle my fingers through his hair and devour him, pulling him closer.
“Come to lunch with me,” he murmurs between kisses, and I nod.
With one last tangle of our tongues, he pulls away, blinking dazedly.
“I wanted to do that the second you walked in the store, but I didn’t think it’d be good a good idea to fondle my girlfriend in front of the customers on my first day.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely more fifth day stuff,” I joke lightly, but inside, my heart is hammering.
Girlfriend? He just called me his girlfriend. I know we had that talk last night and everything, but I didn’t expect him to just throw the title out there the next day.
“What’s that smile for?” Grey asked.
“It’s nothing.” I try to change the subject. “How’s your face feeling?”
“My face is fine. Now fess up. What’s the smile for?” He pinches my side, tickling me.
“No way.” I skitter to the side, hop over boxes, and barrel out of the room with him chasing after me.
The second we enter the store area, though, we play it cool and calmly walk up to the register. We tell Benny we’re clocking out, and he waves at us, but seems distracted with banging the mouse against the counter. Grey takes the mouse from him and turns it on before giving it back to him.
“I did that the day he hired me,” he says after we’ve pushed out the front doors and stepped outside. “I showed him how to turn it on, but I think he forgets things pretty easily. I think it might just be because he’s old, though. My grandma got that way right before she passed away.”