Diego shakes his head and sighs.
At the realization that he’s undoubtedly frustrated to be injured instead of training for the upcoming X Games, sympathy crashes over me and douses the small flames of irritation. I take a calming breath, realizing I shouldn’t be rude. He doesn’t deserve my misplaced bitterness, so I brace myself to give him an apology.
Jordan’s phone rings just then, cutting the thick, heavy silence. He squeezes Diego’s shoulder, while digging into his pocket to grab the device. “It’s great having you back, man. You wanna grab a beer sometime soon?”
“Sure.”
God, he’s infuriating with those short replies.
If he’s so damn displeased being here, why doesn’t he say so? Why doesn’t he tell my dad or Gaby or Jordan he’s not interested in the jobs that have been lined up?
“It’s really good to see you, Diego,” my dad says, when Jordan heads off, talking on his phone. Gaby is wandering around the store, trying on a pink vest. And me? I stand there, motionless, dumbfounded.
Diego’s throat works up and down as he swallows. His shoulders drop. “Thanks, Joe.”
My dad claps Diego’s shoulder, albeit with delicacy, mindful of his injuries. “Too bad you’re not back permanently. But you know you’re always welcome here, right? It’s your home, after all. Nothing has changed.”
“Yeah.” Diego clears his throat, scratching the back of his head.
“Alright.” There’s a silent conversation flying between the two men as they hold eye contact for a moment. “Let me show you around. When do you want to start? Alara will train you.”
At the mention of my name, Diego looks back at me, as if he suddenly remembers I’m standing there. The way his eyes fall upon me makes heat creep up my cheeks, but I keep my chin high, nodding enthusiastically to show how happy I am to have a new coworker. Truth is, I don’t know how to handle my emotions and nerves.
It’s not a big deal.
We’re both adults now.
I’m going to forget about the crush.
What’s the worst that could happen now that we’ll constantly be around each other?
“Any time that works for you both.”
Dad smiles at the response. “Tomorrow? Can you be here for opening? We open at ten; it’s mostly slow at that time of the day. Won’t be a long shift.”
“Okay.”
“That good for you?” Dad asks me next.
With a small smile, I nod my agreement – hoping it’s enough as an apology for now. “That works for me.”
Diego listens intently to my dad explaining all the tasks he’ll have to do around the place, and I’m just standing there staring at him. I wish I could find a sliver of strength to look away, though.
There’s something different about him, and I’m not sure what it is that makes him so cold and unapproachable now.
As he wanders that dark gaze of his around for the millionth time, it connects to mine. Intense. Unrelenting. He’s the first one to break contact, his jaw ticcing, but he quickly looks back at me before sauntering after my dad, who tells him to follow.
His arm brushes my shoulder and, at that moment, I’m thankful for the thick sweater concealing the chills arising on my skin.
His cologne is annoyingly intoxicating as he passes. Then, he bends to pick up the gloves laying at my feet, his murmur akin to a cool, chilling breeze caressing my ear when he towers over me again. “Looking forward to working with you.”
I swear the corner of his mouth twitches, like he’s fighting his own smile. I swear I can hear my own breath hitch as I realize how minuscule the distance between us is. I swear my head is spinning and I’m desperate for some fresh air.
And coffee.
Snatching the items, I smile sweetly. His sardonic tone makes me want to mess with him. “I can see that you’re excited. I promise we’ll have fun.”
For what feels like an eternity, he studies my face, the intensity of his scrutiny leaving a residue of sparks trailing down my spine. “Can’t wait.”
