What’s the point of taking care of the store if Dad doesn’t want to be around? He wants to throw in the towel like a coward and right now, I don’t know who he is.
He isn’t Dad.
I can’t be here. In this office. In this store. It feels like someone is squeezing my lungs and it’s hard to breathe.
I need Riley.
TWENTY-SEVEN
RILEY
I'm lying on my couch in my living room while music on the record player echoes around me.
My apartment is warm and cozy, and I decided today is going to be a lazy day. Ignore all my responsibilities for one day, to clear my head, but one man won't escape my mind.
A breeze flows through the window and fills the room. My large, beat-up sweater drowns me, the sleeve falling off one shoulder. I lift one leg in the air and look at my bare leg in my cotton shorts. They're a little prickly for my liking, but I'm too lazy to do anything about it.
The music stops, and I hear the needle on the record pick itself up. I roll onto my side, and my face presses into the throw pillow. I get up from the couch and walk across the room to flip over the record.
Right before I get the chance to, the buzzer rings through the apartment. I jump. No one told me they were stopping by. Unless it's Mom. Oh god, I hope it's not my mother. That would be the cherry on top of everything I don't want to deal with.
I hesitate to push the door button on the intercom, notwanting to be bothered, but something in the back of my mind is telling me to let whoever it is inside. Footsteps thud up the stairs, two by two. It sounds urgent. When it reaches closer, I cautiously open the door to see who it is.
August stares at me. I watch his chest heave with each breath, his cheeks are red, and his glasses slip down his nose. It looks like his hair was tussling in the wind—chaotic, but still cute.
“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know where else to go.” He licks his lips as his eyes peek over my shoulder and into my safe space before landing back on me.
Without saying a word, I open the door wider and step to the side, gesturing my hand for him to come in. He makes quick work and steps inside, murmuring his thanks.
The sound of his sneakers creaking on the wood underneath his feet. I catch him looking me up and down. I'm wearing ratty clothes, and my hair is very greasy.
I scan my clothes and look back up. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting any company today."
He shakes his head and holds up his hand. "Don't apologize. I’m sorry for showing up out of nowhere."
What the hell is happening? This is the last thing I’d expect. August has been to my place a few times when the group picked me up or dropped me off after a night out.
However, he’s never been inside.
I busy myself and go to the kitchen to grab two glasses. Turning to him, I ask, "Want something to drink?"
"If you have any liquor, that would be great."
An ice-cold bottle of tequila lies in the corner behind frozen vegetables. This is Hailey’s emergency tequila, but I’m sure she won’t mind sharing it with August.
“It’s your lucky day.” I lift the bottle in his direction, but he’s turned away from me.
When I'm done with his drink, I pour myself a glass of water and hand him his drink while he stands still in the same spot. He takes it from my hand, and in one swig, he empties the glass.
“Uh, do you want more?”
He shakes his head and hands it back to me. “Thanks.”
“Here.” I give him my glass of water. He needs it more than I do right now. I walk back to the kitchen and set his empty glass down in the sink. "Want to sit down?"
He nods and takes a seat right in the middle of the couch, leaving me to sit next to him on either side, or in my grandma's chair in the corner, soaking in the sun.
The fabric is still bright, like when I was little, with a small tear from where their cat, Kitty, would stretch out on it. I opt for her chair. I think I'll need my grandma, an adult I felt safe with as a child, for whatever brought August to my front door.
