Page 30 of A Boy Is a Gun: Part II
Jiro’s mouth tilts in a slow smile.He glances at Hayley, amused, then brings his gaze back to me — steady, deliberate.“Well,” he murmurs, “your girl says yes.But I’m more interested in what you say.”
My fingers tighten on the edge of my apron.“I haven’t decided.”
“Take your time.”He leans back, finally tearing a piece off the biscuit.“I’m a patient man.Mostly.”And then he takes a slow bite, eyes never leaving mine, like he’s got all afternoon to watch me squirm.
I go back to work and handle business, while pretending Jiro is just a regular-degular customer in my store.I’m still behind the counter pretending to reorganize stir sticks when he stands and walks over, empty cup in hand.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Jiro says, placing it gently on the counter.“And for the conversation.”
I blink.“You barely talked.”
He smiles slowly and deliberately.“Sometimes listening tells you more than talking ever could.”
Before I can respond, he leans in just slightly, just enough for me to catch a faint whiff of cedar and something darker, sharper.“Next time,” he adds, voice low, “I’ll do the talking.”And then he’s gone like he didn’t just drop a verbal match in my lap and stroll away from the fire.
Hayley fans herself with the order pad.“Girl, you’re done for.”
She’s probably right.
Six
Cameron
Makayla’s legs arestill wrapped around me when I grab my phone off the nightstand and check the time.We’ve been in bed most of the afternoon, a slow burn that kept catching fire every time one of us so much as breathed too close.
She’s lying on her stomach now, bare skin glowing in the low light, scrolling through her tablet.I’m tracing lazy circles on the back of her thigh when I notice what she’s looking at—Ethereum charts.
“Well, well,” I murmur, leaning over her shoulder.“Didn’t take you for the type to research market volatility between rounds.”
She smirks without looking at me.“You made it sound interesting.Figured I’d see what all the hype is about.”
I let my hand slide higher.“It’s not hype, Kay.Crypto’s just...a smarter hustle.No middleman, no banks, no trace.”
She tilts her head back, eyes meeting mine.“You saying I should get into it?”
“I’m saying you should know how it works.”I need to be careful how I feed this info to her.Not enough to sell her and make her think it’s suspicious, but enough for her to “do her own research” and convince others such as her brother and his friends, to invest.“Set up a wallet, diversify, ride the highs, and pull out before it tanks.Like I told you—timing is everything.”Her phone starts buzzing on the nightstand.She glances at the screen, then flips it over.“Business?”I ask.
