That he saw me as some kind of charity case stung—even though he was right. “I can afford to buy my own pancakes.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. All I said was that I would buy.” He stepped out of the doorway, turned, and locked the door behind him. “Come or don’t. It’s up to you.”
Then he walked up the alley and away from me.
I stared at his back for a long moment.
What just happened?
But the guy just kept walking. He didn’t look behind him once to see if I was following him.
Why was that so annoying?
He had confidence for days. And looking at the mural, he also had more talent in his pinky than I had in my whole body.
That he painted himself as the villain in my piece instead of painting over it was so confusing. Which Burns Brother was he? Why hadn’t he called the cops?
Why was I still standing in the alley talking to myself?
I could be eating bacon and carbs and asking him these questions.
And it wasn’t like I had anything better to do.
Or at least that was the excuse I gave myself as I jogged up the alley in the direction he’d disappeared.
Chapter 2
Still Indy
I hovered in the doorway of the chain diner in indecision. Did I seriously just follow him four blocks to this dump? I never would’ve thought it was the type of place a Burns Brother would deign to sit in, let alone eat.
But there he was, sitting in the back corner of the crappy diner and perusing a sticky menu with another menu sitting across from him.
I eyeballed the two gangly, mean mugging guys sitting at the counter and quickly walked past them. My backpack clanged with the telltale sound of my spray cans with every step. I was used to the cadence, but it sounded overly loud in the quiet diner.
And awkward.
Sighing, I tossed my bag onto the bench opposite him and climbed in after.
I didn’t even bother opening the menu. I already knew my order. Dad had taken me here often enough since I’d moved in with him last fall.
Proven by the spark of recognition in Anne’s eyes as she approached our booth.
I shook my head slightly and she tipped her chin in acknowledgement.
“What can I get you kids?”
I rattled off my order then added, “separate checks, please.”
His gaze didn’t leave my face the whole time he ordered. It should’ve made me feel creeped out…but I wasn’t. His expression was totally open, like he was curious about me. Zero hint of sexual interest.
“So, you come here often?” He laughed slightly as Anne left with our menus, promising to return with our drinks.
I shrugged, uncomfortable. It wasn’t like this was the best place. But it was affordable, which was pretty much my only criteria.
He tipped his chin at me. “Personally, I’m a fan of the stuffed French toast, but I can’t get that this late. I’d never be able to fall asleep later—too rich.”
I scoffed. Right.Rich.
