help.”
“Please.” Tuttle scoffs. “Like that guy can help you.”
“I mean, with like the register or whatever. The money I have to put in the safe in the back before I leave. There’s this whole closing up procedure I have to follow and I don’t want to mess it up.”
Jordan studies me, the concern in his eyes obvious. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone there at night.”
“I’m a big girl.” I smile but it feels fake, so I let it fade. “I’ll be fine.”
“Uh huh.” He reaches out and brushes the corner of my lips with his thumb. “Mustard,” he tells me.
Just before he sticks his thumb in his mouth and licks it off.
Tuesday night at Yo Town is pretty boring. The shop is located in a busy shopping center, but once it hits about eight o’clock, business dies. The last hour would’ve dragged if I hadn’t prepped for closing during that time. I’m confident closing will be a breeze, but I can’t help but feel a little nervous after Tuttle showed so much concern about my being alone.
If he never would’ve acted like that, I’d be fine. He put too many dark thoughts in my head.
He’s pretty good at that.
My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans and I pull it out to find a text from Blake.
You doing okay? Have any questions?
I text him back.
I’m fine. Last hour has been dead but that gave me time to clean up a lot.
That’s what I usually do too. Call me if you need anything.
Will do! :)
I put my phone away and start to cover the toppings that can stay out overnight. I’ll put the ones that need to be refrigerated in the back after I lock the front door. I check the clock. 8:47. Thirteen minutes ’til closing time.
I’ve got my back toward the door when I hear the buzzer indicating someone entering the building. I whirl around, a strangled sound leaving me when I see who’s standing there.
Tuttle. Of course.
“Why are you here?” I ask once I find my voice.
“Couldn’t stop thinking about you alone. Thought I’d come be with you. Make sure you’re okay.” He approaches the counter, walking with that unmistakable Tuttle swagger. He looks windblown—his hair is ruffled and his cheeks are red. A storm is coming in, nothing serious, but enough to drop the temps and kick up a gusty wind. He’s wearing a school hoodie and dark gray sweatpants. I have never in my life thought sweatpants were sexy before.
At this very moment, they are the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.
“Oh.” I stand up a little bit straighter. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can. I just don’t like thinking about you here. All by yourself. Anyone can see that you’re alone.” He waves at the giant windows that line the front of the store, then turns to meet my gaze. “The parking lot isn’t safe either. Who knows who’s out there?”
I fight the shiver that wants to take over me at his words. Talk about putting fear in me. “I’m parked pretty close.”
“Not close enough,” he retorts.
“Tuttle…” My voice drifts and the glare he sends me cuts like a knife.
“Don’t call me that,” he snaps.
I take a step back at the anger in his voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He comes around the counter until he’s standing right in front of me. Blocking everything out so all I can see is him. “I told you before—call me by my first name.”
“Okay.” I nod, trying to ignore my racing heart at his nearness. He’s moody tonight. A little restless. I wonder why? “Jordan.”
The tension eases out of him and he relaxes. “You’ve got the braids in again.” He reaches out and touches one, tugs on the end like he’s six and a pain in my butt. “You look cute.”
He always tells me I look cute. I want him to think I’m beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. All those pretty words boys say to girls. Boyfriends say to girlfriends.
Oh my God, now I’m the one whose acting like she’s six.
“Thanks.” I glance
“Please.” Tuttle scoffs. “Like that guy can help you.”
“I mean, with like the register or whatever. The money I have to put in the safe in the back before I leave. There’s this whole closing up procedure I have to follow and I don’t want to mess it up.”
Jordan studies me, the concern in his eyes obvious. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone there at night.”
“I’m a big girl.” I smile but it feels fake, so I let it fade. “I’ll be fine.”
“Uh huh.” He reaches out and brushes the corner of my lips with his thumb. “Mustard,” he tells me.
Just before he sticks his thumb in his mouth and licks it off.
Tuesday night at Yo Town is pretty boring. The shop is located in a busy shopping center, but once it hits about eight o’clock, business dies. The last hour would’ve dragged if I hadn’t prepped for closing during that time. I’m confident closing will be a breeze, but I can’t help but feel a little nervous after Tuttle showed so much concern about my being alone.
If he never would’ve acted like that, I’d be fine. He put too many dark thoughts in my head.
He’s pretty good at that.
My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans and I pull it out to find a text from Blake.
You doing okay? Have any questions?
I text him back.
I’m fine. Last hour has been dead but that gave me time to clean up a lot.
That’s what I usually do too. Call me if you need anything.
Will do! :)
I put my phone away and start to cover the toppings that can stay out overnight. I’ll put the ones that need to be refrigerated in the back after I lock the front door. I check the clock. 8:47. Thirteen minutes ’til closing time.
I’ve got my back toward the door when I hear the buzzer indicating someone entering the building. I whirl around, a strangled sound leaving me when I see who’s standing there.
Tuttle. Of course.
“Why are you here?” I ask once I find my voice.
“Couldn’t stop thinking about you alone. Thought I’d come be with you. Make sure you’re okay.” He approaches the counter, walking with that unmistakable Tuttle swagger. He looks windblown—his hair is ruffled and his cheeks are red. A storm is coming in, nothing serious, but enough to drop the temps and kick up a gusty wind. He’s wearing a school hoodie and dark gray sweatpants. I have never in my life thought sweatpants were sexy before.
At this very moment, they are the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.
“Oh.” I stand up a little bit straighter. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can. I just don’t like thinking about you here. All by yourself. Anyone can see that you’re alone.” He waves at the giant windows that line the front of the store, then turns to meet my gaze. “The parking lot isn’t safe either. Who knows who’s out there?”
I fight the shiver that wants to take over me at his words. Talk about putting fear in me. “I’m parked pretty close.”
“Not close enough,” he retorts.
“Tuttle…” My voice drifts and the glare he sends me cuts like a knife.
“Don’t call me that,” he snaps.
I take a step back at the anger in his voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He comes around the counter until he’s standing right in front of me. Blocking everything out so all I can see is him. “I told you before—call me by my first name.”
“Okay.” I nod, trying to ignore my racing heart at his nearness. He’s moody tonight. A little restless. I wonder why? “Jordan.”
The tension eases out of him and he relaxes. “You’ve got the braids in again.” He reaches out and touches one, tugs on the end like he’s six and a pain in my butt. “You look cute.”
He always tells me I look cute. I want him to think I’m beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. All those pretty words boys say to girls. Boyfriends say to girlfriends.
Oh my God, now I’m the one whose acting like she’s six.
“Thanks.” I glance
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