Ryder's grin hit me dead center. "Smart move."
My pulse was sprinting, but somehow I managed a laugh. "Oh, you have no idea."
Ryder was still smiling, and for one dizzying moment I thought maybe I had pulled it off.
But then, his gloomy friend eyed the box like it might explode, and my nerves came roaring back.
When Ryder picked up the box and handed it to his companion, Mister Hangover gave it a long, wary look. But he didn't tear it open – thank God.
Even so, the sight of him studying all that white tape made my stomach twist, like even it realized I'd been an idiot for stuffing the box with trouble.
What was wrong with me, anyway?
As I turned away and began pouring their coffees from the dispenser, I heard Ryder tell his friend, "See? No spit."
I froze. Oh, so he was one ofthose.This shouldn't have been a surprise.
Still, I said nothing, because I'd been reckless enough already.
I snapped lids onto their coffees and turned back with the brightest smile I could muster. After I handed over the cups, Ryder paid with cash and then tossed – holy hell – an extra hundred onto the counter.
With a grin, he said, "For the trouble."
I stared down at the bill, swallowing hard as a wave of conflicting emotions washed over me.Guilt. Suspicion. And here was the worst – temptation.
Back in Chicago, money hadn't been a huge issue.
But now?I was broke, desperate, and painfully aware that my roommate was drowning in debt. And yet, I reluctantly said, "I shouldn't take this."
Ryder laughed. "Why not?"
Because I didn't deserve it.In a fit of pique, I'd stuffed the box with petty revenge even though Ryder had done nothing wrong – at least not yet.
And what about his friend, the one who looked one raisin away from doom?
Instantly, something like sanity returned, and the truth hit home.I'd done a terrible thing.
Suddenly, it was all too much. And in spite of my empty wallet, I still made no move to take the cash.
But then, my thoughts returned to my roommate. Maisie was letting me crash at her place even though we weren't exactly friends.
I bit my lip.Maybe if I took it for her, it wouldn't be so terrible?I kept my eyes trained on the bill as my conscience flared one last time. "It's too much."
"Or maybe," Ryder said, "it's not enough." His tone was playful, like he enjoyed watching me squirm.
Was he flirting?
Or taunting?
Maybe he was both.Either way, my brain was short-circuiting like I'd swallowed static. Finally, I looked up to meet his gaze. "But—"
Just then, an elderly woman in line called out, "Oh, for God's sake! Just take the money so I can get my damn coffee, alright?"
And that sealed it. Literally.
My fingers trembled as I plucked up the bill and shoved it into my pocket. "Uh…thanks." I dug deep and managed a guilty smile. "Enjoy the pastries."
After all, what else was I supposed to say?
