Page 28 of Stardusted
Was he hoping I’d spill about what happened last night? About the near-vehicular-manslaughter-meets-UFO-encounter? What part was he waiting on: my recap of his involvement…or what had caused the entire thing?
He obviously hadn’t shared the deets on our late-night rendezvous. Gossip spread like wildfire in this place. If he’d said anything, Kelly would’ve been the first to blab it to the world.
So he’d kept quiet. So far.
Maybe he was just being a nice guy, and the purpose of keeping it on the down-low was to avoid embarrassing me.
Or maybe he was watching now and hoping I’d tell the story myself. Make him look like the hero. Maybe he had some kind of weird modesty complex.
OrmaybeI was wildly overthinking everything, and he was just bored and mildly entertained by a prep area full of waitresses hyped up on alien YouTube.
Damn it. I’d stared at him a little too long. Long enough that the girls around me followed my gaze before I could fake disinterest. When Kelly saw who I was looking at, she dropped my forearm and sent me anoh really?look.
He hadn’t looked away, as if he didn’t notice the dreamy looks from the other waitresses.
Or maybe he didn’t care.
He gave me a nod. “Hey, Rae,” he said, quietly but loud enough to cut through the background hum of music and customer chatter.
My lips parted on a soundless inhale. For one golden second, all reason drained away, replaced by a buzz of happiness. He reallyhadremembered my name.
Then I shook myself. It wasn’tthatbig of a deal. Remembering a person’s name was common courtesy, for God’s sake.
Besides, I was sureI’d left an impression yesterday. Probably not a good one, but enough to stick, it seemed. He’d rescued me off the side of the road, and I’d responded by turning down his phone number.
I wailed inwardly.
Only one way to fix this: rip off the awkward bandage. Get it over with.
On autopilot, I stepped forward, giving Kelly’s shoulder an absent pat on my way past. Sky watched me approach, and my heart played hopscotch in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other girls gawking. Turning my back on them, I stopped in front of Sky and tipped my head back to meet his gaze.
He angled his chin down, a shadow of scruff roughening the planes of his handsome face.
“Hi.”
“Um. Hi. Hello,” I said, immediately regretting everything. I bit my inner lip and hooked my thumbs into my apron pockets. Why not throw in a howdy while I was at it?
Sky gave me another faint smile.
“Hey,” he said. The tiny grin hitched up higher. “Think we’ve covered most of the standard greetings now.”
Damn it. He’d noticed.
“Yeah, look at that. We did. So…um, funny.” I cleared my throat and shut my mouth before I could say anything else mortifying.
We just…looked at each other. Oasis’s canned music track played a jaguar growl before transitioning into a steel-drum samba interspersed with monkey calls. Somewhere beyond the kitchen’s swinging doors, an incensed Jackie shouted thatwhoever chopped tomatoes must’ve used a machete to butcher them.
Sky’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile even wider—either at the cook’s tirade or because I was still gazing up at him like a lovesick idiot. My cheeks went up in flames. I scrambled for something—anything—to say.
Thankfully, Sky took pity on me and broke eye contact. He shot a glance over my shoulder, where the others still loitered, before running a hand through his thick hair.
“So…you didn’t answer them,” he said, jerking his chin toward the group of waitresses. “You seemed pretty shaken up last night. Any idea what caused you to spin out like that?”
Some of my flustered embarrassment faded away, and I straightened, brow furrowing. He’d already asked me that. In the car. I’d told him I didn’t know.
Unless he hadn’t believed me.
Oh no. Not him, too.
