When lunch came and I went upstairs and found the room full, I grabbed my food from the fridge—taco casserole that was dry and just weird— warmed it up, and decided I was going to do myself and my coworkers a favor and go somewhere else where I could be in a bad mood. It wasn’t because of Ripley either. He hadn’t bothered looking up when I had walked into the room. If that didn’t say enough about how things were between us, I didn’t know what else could.
So I took my food and ate it on one of the chairs set up around the back of the shop where the guys took smoke breaks. It was Northside Houston, warm and always humid, but in the shade, with a decent breeze, a lack of bugs, and away from the worst of the street pollution closer to the entrance of the shop, it was… fine.
Honestly, it was kind of relaxing, even if I was just around the corner from where my cousin had backhanded me. But I didn’t have a scab or a scar on my face, and I wasn’t going to focus on that dipshit. Not when he’d done similar things to me as a kid when I had been walking home from school.
Rudy was nobody. My dad was nobody. And nobodies didn’t hurt anyone.
I was fine. I had a job. I was loved.
Mr. Cooper was going to make a full recovery.
Lily was happy, healthy, and making lots of tip money.
Thea and Kyra were both alive, but I only knew that because Lily confirmed it.
My dad hadn’t called again.
Jason had never come back to work.
I was safe. I had a roof over my head and food to eat. I had so much. Not everything was perfect—and I hated how resentful I felt toward my sisters—but it was better than most people had it.
That’s what I kept telling myself as I sat there, all by myself.
About twenty minutes into my lunch, I shoved the hems of my sweatpants up to just above my knees and stretched my pale legs out in front of me to catch a little bit of sun.
When I had ten minutes left on my break, I packed up my things and headed back inside. I didn’t look around to see who was on the main shop floor before going up the stairs, but when I got to the break room and found it empty except for two of the body guys—and Rip—I made sure to smile at both of them.
When I accidentally shifted my gaze over just enough to meet Rip’s eyes, I didn’t let the smile slip from my face.
I wasn’t going to give him my hurt. I was going to treat him the way he wanted me to months ago. Like he was my boss. Like he hadn’t dug a space into my life and then decided he didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.
Like he hadn’t told me those three freaking words.
But when I met his eyes, keeping the smile on my face, those teal-colored eyes bounced all over my face, lingering on the star necklace that had fallen out from where I’d tucked it under my shirt.
It lasted for a second.
Because I looked away and toward the fridge, keeping my gaze on that as I passed by the three men so I could put the rest of my almost-gross casserole away.
“Luna, what’d you eat for lunch?” one of the guys asked as I set my bag back inside.
I closed it with the back of my hand as I said, “Casserole. It tastes like butthole, but if you don’t have taste buds, you can have the rest.”
They didn’t sound that interested, but I filled my water bottle from the filter and left the room only saying “see ya” to the two I was on speaking terms with.
I got back to my room and finished taping the car I was set to start priming that afternoon. I was going over my notes for it, triple checking the paint color on the invoice with the number on the label when the door opened. I didn’t look up after I heard the first two steps taken inside. Only one person walked that heavily.
“Do you need me to do something?” I called out before he got too far in.
The footsteps kept coming and so did his voice. “I wanted to double-check something on the SS,” Ripley answered immediately.
I didn’t pinch my lips together or make a face. I stood up and immediately handed over the clipboard with the notes I was holding. He was already standing beside me. I kept my eyes on the board as he took it, those long fingers flipping to the page I had just been reading.
Then I took a step back and headed into the booth to look around and make sure all the taping was correct, even though I knew it was.
Rip didn’t immediately say anything; I managed to make it halfway around the car before he called out from somewhere outside the booth, “I’m done.”
I didn’t get why he didn’t just look up the order on the computer, but I wasn’t going to waste my time even wondering.
