I laughed. What the hell had I just said?
“Whatever, Tara,” Elizabeth said. “Do what you want. Just be careful. I see how you look at him. I know where your head is at.”
It’s been in the same place for the last few years. I just finally don’t have anything—anyone—else in the way of it.
* * *
I wasn’t sure how I had it in my head that Brock being security would mean he would be a quasi-action hero.
Truth be told, it just entailed Brock sitting in the front lobby until five p.m., at first standing and walking around. I eventually felt bad enough about his boredom that I gave him a laptop lying around, only requesting that he didn’t go to any website his grandmother wouldn’t want to see.
The day progressed at a steady enough pace for me, as launching a new solar farm entailed a ton of setup work, but I had to imagine it bored Brock to tears. At least at the gas station, he’d get to speak to customers.
Maybe I could use the downtime as a chance to teach him some things. To help him get a better job. To get a better life.To get a life like yours? Predictable, handed to you, easy?
Perhaps he wasn’t kidding about only wanting to make the town a safer place. And not like becoming a business analyst would help him do that.
The day came to a close. Elizabeth made it a point to walk out first, though she did not drive off immediately upon getting to her car. I walked out to Brock smoking a cigarette. The sun beginning its descent to the west illuminated Brock in a golden glow; if “tattoo artist had a baby with a surfer” was perfect in describing him, the surfer side of him was coming out in full force. His perfectly tanned skin, slender but muscular body, and beautiful hair painted him as every bit a model.
“Don’t get weirded out,” he said as he took a puff. “But I’m following you into Albuquerque.”
“You know you don’t have to protect me there.”
“I know,” he said. “But with all respect, I’m not going for you.”
He took another puff.
“Remember this morning, I said I had something that might help me get shit set up? That’s what I’m going for.”
“Huh,” I said. “Well, where are you going? Someone’s house?”
“Actually, no,” he said. “I’m going to a bar called Reapers in downtown Albuquerque.”
“Oh! I’ve been meaning to check it out!”
Brock showed no expression, no bother at me half-inviting myself and no hope at me saying I knew of the place.
“What time are you meeting this guy?”
“Dunno, just said to be there some point tonight. Figure he’ll get me when he’s ready.”
I was getting a little swept up. I didn’t care.
“You know what? Today had to have sucked for you. You didn’t do shit.”
“It’s fine—”
“Let’s go get a drink there. On me.”
You are getting hotter and hotter as you draw closer to this fire every single day.
I can’t help it. Brock is that hot, metaphorically.
And literally.
“On you?”
Brock chuckled, finished the last of his cigarette, flicked it to the ground, and smeared it with his foot. He saw my grimace and shrugged.
