“Yes, but also because you deserve to be treated that way.”
Instead of saying thank you like I should, my gaze meets the floor. I’m not sure how to stand before a compliment delivered so brazenly.
Maybe Klein senses my unease, because he keeps talking. “I have a lot more to learn about you, Paisley. How about Saturday afternoon, before my shift? I’ll come over.”
A thrill races through me. “Saturday works.”
Quiet falls over us, until he points at my door. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re inside and I hear your lock turn.”
I fight a smile. “So if I walked inside but forgot to lock it, you’d?—”
“Sleep on your porch.”
I chuckle. He can’t be serious. This is his poetic, writer’s soul talking.
“Don’t worry, Wordsmith. I’ll make sure you get your quality beauty sleep.” Pushing open the door, I step inside and turn around.
“Good night,” I say, allowing an extra lilt in my voice.
From Klein comes a single, heavy exhale between closed lips. “Good night.”
The door closes. Out of sight, I press a hand to my chest and release a held breath in one long, slow stream. My head droops, my muscles thawing. The tension from the mental and emotional tightrope I walk with Klein is on par with?—
“Paisley.”
His voice reaches through the door, surprising me enough to elicit a surprised yelp. “Yeah?”
“Lock the door.” He sounds bemused.
Grinning to myself, I reach out and flip the lock loudly.
The night falls quiet, and then his car engine roars to life.
Dazed, I make my way to my room and lie back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Klein, who I believed never looked my way in that class we were in together, remembers the way I’d empty my bag of M&Ms onto my paper and group them by color.
Why, after all this time, did he retain that unimportant detail?
And why, oh why, do I like that he did?
CHAPTER 13
Paisley
Klein arriveson Saturday afternoon at 3:55.
He wears jeans, like always, but this time his T-shirt is forest green. It deepens his eye color, and requires real effort for me not to stare too deeply into them.
“You’re early again,” I chide, holding open the door.
One hand is hidden behind his back, and when I swerve left to look at what it is he’s concealing, he veers right. “Five minutes early is on time.”
“Says who?” I coax back the grin bending my lips.
“The time police.” He rocks back on his heels, eyebrows lifting. “And guess what?”
I bite down on a square of flesh inside my lower lip. “You’re the sheriff?”
