Page 45 of Give Me Love

Becca disappears to the other side of the store and I look at Kat as she stands with her arms crossed. I lift the heavy machine from the box. She walks over and holds the box down so I can pull it out better.

“What did you mean when you said you’ve got shit from your past you can’t forget?”

“Nothing.” I set it down on the counter and remove the clear plastic on it.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true,” she replies as she removes the directions from the box.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t want to talk about it,” I throw back.

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“Because you asked why I like to hit the bag.”

“So, you just toss out that you have anger issues because of your past and you don’t think I’ll want you to elaborate?”

I exhale, clearly getting frustrated. “Drop it.”

“I don’t want to drop it. I want to know.”

And I want to hook this thing up and get the hell out of here. Why did I follow her in? I rip the rest of the clear wrapping off, feeling her eyes on me. You know what, fuck this machine and the coffee.

“My past is not something I talk about, Kat.” I harshly toss the plastic sideways into the trash before I walk by her. “I’ll see ya,” I throw out as I head for the door.

Anger collides with frustration when I climb inside my car. Why does she ask so many questions?

It’s called getting to know each other.I spin wheels and shift roughly, deciding to head to Red for a drink or six.

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Kathrine

It’s five o’clock, and I walk in with groceries as my phone rings.

“Hello,” I say, dumping them all onto the counter and quickly catching a jar of salsa as it rolls off.

“Hey, it’s me.” His deep voice causes my pulse to quicken and I can’t help the stupid grin on my face. It’s been two days since he walked out of Mugs & Books pissed that I asked about his past. I should be pissed that he hasn’t called or came by since, but I can’t be.

It’s kind of pathetic, really.

The amount of times I’ve looked at my stupid phone is sad, and every time the bell on the door at work chimed, I hoped it was him, only to be let down.

I do decide to mess with him, though. “Me who?”

“What do you mean who? Who else is calling you?”

I smile wider, bringing the salsa jar to my chest. “Well, plenty of people, actually.”

“Tell them to stop. You only need one friend.”

“And that’s you?”

“Yeah,” he says in all seriousness.

“I think friends usually speak more often.”

“Cut me some slack. I’m new at this,” he says. I move the groceries to the side and sit on the counter, placing the salsa jar beside me.

“I’m new at this. What have you been doing?” I hear dogs barking. “Where are you?” I lightly spin the jar.

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