The drinks are from the fancy coffee shop down the street, but that isn’t the only reason I hesitate. “If it weren’t safe, then you wouldn’t be here.”
“I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because of me,” he says quietly. “I don’t believe Wilkes will hurt you, but I’d like to walk you to work for at least the next couple of days just for my peace of mind. That’s all. I can walk behind you if you don’t want to talk to me, but Idoneed to know you’re safe.”
I study him for a beat longer. Then, I take the vanilla latte. It smells too good to ignore it, and if he’s just going to throw it away, it seems criminal to waste a $15 coffee. “You don’t have to walk behind me. Someone will think you’re stalking me and arrest you.”
“I would prefer not to get arrested.” He tosses the paper cup holder into a trash can, keeping the mocha for himself.
“But you’d still do it?” I say, walking down the stairs beside him.
“I would.”
“I don’t walk to work. I get the bus.”
He nods. “Then the bus it is.”
We walk in silence for the next few minutes.
I glance up at him. “I thought you’d push me to quit my job or convince me to go in your car by saying it isn’t safe.”
“This is your life and your routine; I’m just here for the ride.”
We stop at the bus stop. “My bus will be here soon.”
“Okay.”
“It’ll be packed,” I warn him.
One corner of his mouth lifts in a crooked smile. “I know.”
“Because you saw me get on the bus?” And I’d run away from him, spilling most of my groceries on the street in desperate panic.
“Because I’ve ridden a bus in the morning. It’salwayspacked in the morning.”
I jerk my head toward him, surprised. He’s wearing all black, but his clothes are expensive, and he’s a member of Pack Wells. They have more money than my parents.
“You’veridden a bus?” I ask, disbelieving.
He sticks his hand out, and the bus slows as it approaches. “I didn’t come from money like Torin and Callum. Callum’s dad paid me to watch him.”
I’ll have to stay curious for a little longer as we push ourselves onto the bus. It’s standing room only, and having someone’s armpit two inches from my face is never pleasant, but it’s part of my new life, so I put up with it for the reward of getting paid from the job I’m going to, and the food I can buy with it. Not everyone is as fortunate.
But I can’t say I don’t derive some sick pleasure from someone sticking their armpit in Archer’s face. From the way his nostrils flare and he leans away, he’s having serious regrets about walking me to work.
Two days. Maybe three, and he’ll stop coming with me to work or subtly suggest we ride in his car. Definitely no longer.
Chapter 30
June
One week goes by.
A week of banging and plastering around the apartment building, and no one can or will tell me what it’s all about.
A week of Archer walking me to work, and of learning about how Callum’s dad paid him to spy on him, and how, slowly, they started to trust each other.
“Why did you agree to spy on him?” I ask him one morning as I sip from the vanilla latte he always has waiting for me outside my apartment building.
There have been no subtle or unsubtle hints to get me to quit my job or ride in his car, regardless of how many people shove their armpits into his face.
