Just as he got close, Eliza excused herself, and Flint filled her chair.
They had a heated discussion both verbally and through sign. I guessed the bad stuff was spoken in sign, since Till looked over his shoulder every time one of them lifted their hands. I couldn’t help but laugh at how animated Flint was with his hands. For such a stoic man, sign seemed to really bring out the drama in him.
Suddenly, Eliza slid into Flint’s vacant chair beside me. “So, whatcha wearing on your date tomorrow night?” she asked with a huge grin.
She was really taking this pretending thing to a whole new level.
“Um . . .” I raked a hand through my hair. I had exactly three outfits: jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt, jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt, and jeans and a Grumpy Cat T-shirt. It wasn’t a hard question to answer. “Jeans and a T-shirt.”
“You want to come raid my closet? What size dress do you wear? I mean, you’re taller than I am, but we’re about the same size, right?” She scooted over, measuring herself against me.
I might not have hated Eliza anymore after our conversation at the gym. However, going on my first date with Flint while wearing her clothes was never going to happen. Never.
Not even an eternity after never.
Never.
“Thanks, but I think I have something.” I smiled tightly.
“Okay. If you change your mind, let me know.” She must have read my brush-off, because she didn’t delay in heading back to her seat.
But she had planted a seed that quickly grew into panic. What the fucking hell am I going to wear on my date with Flint? I had twenty-one dollars to my name. Shopping wasn’t exactly an option.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Why do you look like your head’s about to explode?” Flint asked, finishing the game of musical chairs.
“I need to get a job.”
His eyebrows popped up, and he scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “You going to stay here long enough to work?”
“Well . . . I’m not sure. But I . . . I . . .” I hadn’t exactly made my mind up yet, but I also hadn’t thought about leaving again. “I’m considering it.”
His hand settled back on my thigh before drifting up between my legs. “You’re staying.”
“I’m considering it,” I repeated, spreading my legs to allow him more room to play.
And play he did.
I had just come in the car and I was incredibly sore from the last twenty-four hours, but my body craved him. I bit my lip, trying not to show any reaction while his hand traveled up and down the seam of my jeans.
I figured that, if he could secretly grope me at a table in front of his family, I could do the same.
He caught my wrist just as it brushed over his dick. “Jesus,” he whispered, sliding his hand back to my knee and placing mine on top of it.
The waitress appeared beside him. “Are you guys ready to order?”
I hadn’t even looked at a menu yet, but Flint eagerly answered. “Yes. Two steaks, medium-well, baked potatoes, and salad with ranch.” He paused and looked over at me with a smirk. “In a to-go box, please.”
Twenty minutes later, when the food arrived, Flint announced that I was tired. It wasn’t exactly a lie. I was ready for bed.
Probably not to sleep though.
We got several knowing looks as we said our goodbyes, but no one argued. Not even Quarry—who offered Flint a high five that got left hanging. After promises of future get-togethers, Flint and I headed home with two steaks in tow.
Sated and naked in Flint’s bed, I tipped my head up from his chest and asked, “Hey, you think you can get me a job at the gym like you did Max and Donna?”
“No,” he answered curtly.
I looked away, embarrassed that I’d even asked. “Okay.”
“Don’t act like that. I originally got Max and Donna a job doing housekeeping on the weekends when the afterschool program was off. There is no way I’m getting you a job cleaning the men’s locker room.”
I sat up. “Oh, I could clean the hell out of that locker room. I’m good at cleaning.”
He pointedly glanced over at all of my stuff, which was in a messy pile in the corner of his otherwise pristine room. “I can tell.”
“Oh, shut up! I’m messy, but I’m really good at cleaning. Please, Flint. I need to make some money.”
“No, you don’t. I’ll give you money.” He pulled me down to rest on his chest.
I sat right back up. “I’m not taking your money,” I said, appalled by the very idea.
He laughed. “Says the woman who steals my wallet every chance she gets.”
“That’s not fair. I always give it back. I’ve never stolen anything from you for real,” I snapped as my heart began to race.
The impulse to run overwhelmed me as his words from the past hit me like a hurricane, stripping me bare before blowing away any hopes I’d been clinging to since Flint had walked back into my life.
I am not a criminal.
Who was I kidding?
That’s all I’ve ever been in his eyes.