When we walk in, Carolina sits behind her desk with the flowers I gave her right there, which makes me happy. But then, I notice her eyes are all red. My stomach drops, a mix of concern and confusion filling me.
Has she been crying?
Something must’ve happened.
It’s killing me that I don’t know what is going on with her. Did she get hurt again?
“Ladies, you can call us heroes because we just rescued a little boy,” Clay boasts as he heads toward Sophia’s desk.
I follow right behind but stop in front of Carolina, trying to figure out what’s bothering her.
“What happened?” Sophia asks.
“He got his arm stuck in a candy machine,” Clay says.
“Why didn’t they call the firefighters then?” Sophia questions.
Clay shrugs. “They did, but—” Carolina interrupts with a huff, and Clay turns to her. “What? I was still an important part of the case.”
“I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong,” she says, her eyes no longer watery, which eases my worries a bit.
Clay seems annoyed. “Next time, I’ll call you for help, and your comments can do the job.”
“They would’ve helped at least as much as you did,” she says, not even looking up from her desktop. I have to hold back a chuckle. This girl will be the death of me or Clay, the way his face is getting red.
“Anyway,” he says, shooting her a glare, but then a smirk appears on his lips. “Being a hero does make you hungry. Are you girls ready?”
Sophia stands. “I am, but Carolina has to leave early to cash in her first paycheck,” she announces, looking at her with pride.
Carolina stands, looking back at her with a small smile, and I think I just figured out why she seemed upset. Fuck, I hope it’s enough to balance out what that fine took from her.
“Look at that girl bossing hard over there, kitten,” Clay says, and Carolina just gives him a look.
“Let’s go. Are you coming, Joshy?” Sophia asks as she and Clay are halfway out of the lab.
“In a minute,” I reply, seizing this chance, and she smiles at me before ushering Clay out and closing the door. Carolina is still packing her stuff into her backpack when I walk up to her, and she stops to look up at me. “Hey,” I say, smiling, and my heart feels like it’s about to burst.
She smiles back at me, a small and shy smile. “Hey.”
“Did you get there in time yesterday?” I ask, reaching out to pick a piece of lint off her shoulder. Her gaze follows my hand, and her cheeks are flushed when she looks back up at me.
“I did,” she says, her breath quickening slightly.
“I really enjoyed that short walk alone with you,” I tell her.
“I did too,” she says.
“I would love to spend more time with you, get to know you better,” I say, stepping even closer. “I want to get to know the side of you that you don’t show anyone else.” Her lips part slightly, and her breath hitches. “At the risk of getting brutally shot down…” I smirk, “… would you go out with me?”
“On a real date?” she asks, her eyes wide.
“Are there any ‘not real’ ones? Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been in the dating scene, but yes, a real date. Let me take you to dinner?” I ask, my voice hopeful.
“I’m working every night. I don’t have time to go out,” she says, looking down at her feet.
“If that’s a nice way of saying no, that’s okay. But if it is about the time, what would you say if I brought the date to you?”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
