Page 24 of The Biker and the Gamer
When I take another gulp of my Monster instead of answering, her mouth falls agape and her eyes widen. “Oh my God, you can’t bethatnice!”
I can only offer a shrug.
“Nuh-uh. That bitch doesn’t deserve your help.” She shakes her head, disbelieving. “You’re way too nice, dude.”
“Probably. Though, I don’t get why nice guys have a problem with finishing last. I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere. Life’s short, what the hell am I rushing for?”
“You’re an idiot,” she says through a throaty laugh. Then she sobers and asks, “Did you love her?”
“Thought I did. Until I realized how little her cheating affected me.” I shrug again. “She was comfortable, and I liked being with her. She was smart and witty and a total genius—a physicist—and we had a lot of common interests. But looking back, I think we were more friends with benefits than two people in love.”
“Can’t be that much of a genius if she let herself get knocked up and jilted,” she mumbles more to herself than to me.
“She’s not responsible for him being an asshole,” I shoot back. “Like how you aren’t responsible for your mom doing the same to you.”
She watches me for a long moment, then blinks and shakes her head, as if coming to a definitive conclusion. “Night and day, you and me.”
“And what’s so wrong with that?”
She sucks her Mountain Dew through a straw. “I can’t even bitch with you, ‘cause you’re so annoyingly positive about everything.”
“And you’re pessimistic and defensive about everything. But I’d never find fault with your personality because our backgrounds make us who we are. So what if we’re different?” I lift a brow at her. “Do you prefer people who challenge you or people who enable you?”
“Whatever,” she mumbles, then checks the time on her phone. “Need to get back to work.”
I check my watch. We’ve got twenty minutes before our time is up and she’s a mere five minutes from The Metal House. This is our last twenty minutes before her contract ends and we go our separate ways. Two hours had flown by and now I don’t know how to say goodbye.
“I’m not done eating.” I pick up my fork and stab a slice of avocado along with some greens, shoving it into my mouth. I’ve been full since fifteen minutes ago. Now I’m overeating to keep her here.
“Oh, no, no, you stay and finish your lunch, no rush.” She throws a twenty on the table. “I can walk from here, it’s just a few blocks off.”
Why is she in such a rush to get away from me? “What about all your stuff in the car?”
She slaps her palm to her forehead. “Oh shoot. Um…” She stands. “I’ll have someone come get them for me. Where’ll you be in about two hours?”
“At the office, most likely.”
“Okay. My friend Leyana’s shift will be over in an hour. She’ll come get them on her way home.”
I watch her as she snatches up her phone and pockets it. She seems both anxious and perplexed, her eyes darting everywhere but at me. Seeming almost at war with herself.
“Are you okay?”
She scratches her forehead and looks over at someone else’s table. “Yeah, sure. Just need a smoke, that’s all.”
“Kendra,” I say firmly. “Look at me.”
She sighs before she does it, but she does. Her reluctant gaze connects with mine.
“What did I do?” I ask her.
“Nothing.” Her hands go up then falls back down to slap her thighs. “You’re different from what I’m used to and—I don’t know. I think I’m…It’s just—you’re just—whatever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I need a smoke.”
With that, she’s gone. Walking—no,runningaway from me.
I don’t move for thirty-three minutes. As full as I am, I sit there and force every morsel of food down my throat. Drink every last drop of my Monster.
For thirty-three minutes.
