Page 11 of Wait With Me
He looks at me with curiosity, but thankfully takes his pizza bribe and walks away. I use the opportunity to admire his backside and am not disappointed. The things I do for research purposes.
“You haven’t noticed a hot redhead in the comfort center, have you?” I ask my co-worker Sam, who’s seated next to me at our favorite downtown spot, The Pearl Street Pub.
“Nope. Never seen her. She was there today?” he asks, stroking his ginger-tinged beard.
“Yes,” I reply around a sip of my IPA. “And yesterday.”
“What was she doing?”
I shrug. “She was just on a computer.”
“What’s the problem then?”
“I don’t think she had a car getting work done at the shop.”
“So she’s syphoning free Wi-Fi? Call the cops, we’ve got a mooch on our hands,” he says sarcastically and gestures to the bartender for another round.
I shake my head in defense. “I don’t get a mooch vibe from her. It mostly feels like…desperation?”
Sam leans back and shakes his head. “Now it all makes sense. You have a fetish for desperate girls, bro.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do. You like to save them. Be the gallant protector, sweep in and guard them.”
“This girl drives a big ole Caddy. She does not need saving.”
“So she’s nothing like Jocelyn?” he asks, his eyes narrowing seriously on me.
“Dude, I’m done with Joce. Can we please stop talking about her?”
“Miles, you got dumped by your longtime sweetheart for a rich, ugly prick. That shit sticks with you forever.”
I growl and take a drink of my beer, trying hard not to squeeze the pilsner glass until it breaks in my grip. Jocelyn Vanbeek has wasted too much of my life already. Most twenty-something guys are sleeping with as many girls as they can while I spent the best years of my life obsessing over one girl. I was in a constant state of on-again, off-again hell with her for nearly a decade.
Now I’m thirty years old, and I’ve finally put that drama behind me. Never mind the fact that she’s married and a mother now.
I take a moody sip of my beer and turn in my barstool to take in the handful of female prospects for this evening. “God, I hate that Boulder is such a sausage fest. Why do we live here again?”
“Uh, cuz my uncle is the manager, and no other boss would put up with our shit.”
I smile and point out a hot brunette in the corner. “And maybe that?”
Sam shakes his head. “Making up for lost time—I get it. You do you, bro.” He claps me on the back, and I proceed to make my move.
The next day, like some sort of stalker, I have my eyes glued to the window that overlooks the alley behind the garage. I’m on tire changes all day, which is nice in a way because it’s mindless work. It’s a little time consuming, though, because I have to clean out the wheel wells and readjust the alignment, but I’m not complaining. It makes it easy for me to keep an eye out for Mercedes sneaking around.
It’s nearing the end of the day, and I’m beginning to annoy myself with how often I’ve looked out that damn window. Instead of cleaning up my station for tomorrow, I decide to clock out early, clean myself up, and brave the quiet Customer Comfort Center for a little coffee before I head out.
Coverall-free and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, I walk into the empty waiting area and can’t help but smile when the only soul in sight is a redhead standing in front of the coffee machine. The shop is due to close in fifteen minutes, but she’s still hitting the caffeine like a boss.
Her back is turned to me as she waits for the machine to dispense her drink, so I take the opportunity to ogle the revealing cut of her denim shorts. They are frayed at the ends, true-blue Daisy Dukes that show off the muscular lines of her legs. A sliver of creamy skin peeks out beneath her gray tee when she reaches for a napkin, and I can’t help but drool a little at the perfect curve of her waistline.
The brunette at the pub last night had a boyfriend, so I may be extra eager to figure out the redhead’s story today. I raise my shoulders and stride over toward Mercedes with purpose. Our arms brush as I move to stand beside her and casually reach into the bakery case for a cookie.
Her head turns, and I look over to shoot her a smile. She stares down at my body first and then slowly moves her gaze up to my face.
I hit her with a wink and puzzle over the fact that she looks kind of pale. “Hey there, Red.”
