One Broke Girl by Rhonda Helms Page B

made my core throb in response.
    Oh, I was flirting with danger here, and I knew it. This was so wrong. I could try to lie to myself all I wanted, but I’d dressed this way to entice him. I knew it. He knew it.
    And that tension had been crackling between us nonstop.
    I cleared my throat and turned my attention to my fries.
    “Can I ask you a question?” Gavin said out of nowhere. His face was as serious as I’d seen it. “What made you and your dad move back here?”
    My lungs squeezed for a moment. “My mom left us,” I blurted out.
    He stilled, and his eyes grew sad. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
    The empathy in his voice broke open the floodgates. I told him everything—how she’d left us flat broke after running off with another man. How my dad was finally starting to come back to life. How I’d been socking away whatever I could for school.
    As I talked, I could see emotions flickering across his face. They mirrored my own, made me feel a breath of relief that I’d confessed everything to him. Somehow I’d known Gavin wouldn’t judge me over what had happened. Instead, I found a surprising solace in his presence.
    I finished telling him about our money struggles, how I’d been struggling to get us caught up on bills. “We’re mostly living month to month right now, so I don’t have a lot saved up yet,” I admitted. “Just a couple hundred bucks. But I try to tell myself that every dollar counts.”
    “You should be proud to have that saved up. That’s no small thing.” He paused. “Are you going to move back there?”
    “That’s the plan,” I said. “To save money so I can go back to school and either live on campus or find a couple of roommates.” But even as I spoke this, my stomach gave a guilty twist. What had been my goal two months ago didn’t seem as exciting a prospect anymore. “So how did you handle getting student loans? Because that’s probably what I’m going to have to do.”
    “I didn’t take out any.”
    Whoa. “Seriously? How did you manage that?” I dipped a few fries in ketchup.
    “I did work study, got scholarships and grants… I also worked a couple of jobs. It was hard, but I got through it.” He sipped his soda.
    “So how did you manage it with your bills? Between rent and food and everything else, I just don’t know how to balance it all.”
    He chuckled. “I lived on the cheap. Ate a lot of mac and cheese, but it was worth it. I just bought a house too. It’s small, but it’s all mine.”
    Gavin’s hard work humbled me. As proud of myself as I was for busting my ass these last two months, he’d done it for years—had gone without to achieve his goals, no complaining.
    “You’ll get there,” he said with an understanding smile. “I know how it feels.”
    It hit me then, why I had connected with him so quickly. Gavin had a strong sense of pride, but he didn’t let that get in the way of what needed to be done. He wasn’t dropping cash on a bunch of material things like expensive shoes or a sexy car. Money was important to him, but it wasn’t everything—just a means to an end.
    He intrigued me.
    We changed topics and talked for another hour. He told me a few stories about his childhood, how his sisters used to make him play dolls with them. The affection in his voice made it clear how close they were.
    When we finished up our meal, we walked to the car. The ride was quiet but not uncomfortable. I found myself closing my eyes and leaning my head back on the headrest. Something about telling him the truth had taken a weight off my chest.
    I needed to stop feeling ashamed and embarrassed about what had happened. I hadn’t done anything to deserve this. She’d wronged me, not the other way around.
    “We’re here,” Gavin said a few minutes later then shut the car off.
    The car was dark, but I could feel his gaze on me, and my skin grew tight with anticipation. My palms began to sweat; I wiped them on my skirt. I wanted to kiss Gavin right now.