“For elementary school?”
Bishop’s throat suddenly felt as if he had a block lodged in it. How’d he not think of this first? He couldn’t start with anything too heavy. It also didn’t help that he was now close to the children’s section of the store, and the sight of babies who looked no older than five or six were sitting at little tables and flipping through their books. Yeah, he needed to leave now. “I um. Thanks. I’m just gonna take these.”
The kid’s eyes widened then lowered as if he’d realized what Bishop was saying. First the audiobooks, now he was asking for a book on how-to-read. The guy wasn’t dumb. Then right on cue came the pitiful, I-feel-so-sorry-for-you expression.
“Good night,” Bishop murmured and turned to leave.
“Over there under the hanging unicorn in the far corner is something you might be looking for.”
Bishop followed the guy’s gaze and retreated to the, thankfully deserted, section of the store. He checked out the books on the shelves under the glittery stuffed animal and immediately felt like melting into the floor. And just that fast, his elated mood collapsed to his dirty boots. Most of the books had colorful pictures of smiling children on them, holding up books in victory. There were also flash cards and lesson books. All of them appearing to be for grade school. Bishop cursed under his breath then hurried and grabbed the one that said easy and had the number one in the top left corner, assuming it was a beginning level. He almost changed his mind again when he got to the front of the store and saw the line had backed up and there were only two cashiers working the registers. All these people in here on a Friday night and they’re not better staffed than this?
Bishop had his first-level lesson book tucked under his arm and the audiobooks in his hand while he slowly spun a carousel of bookmarks to avoid eye contact or idle chatter in the line. The sudden blare of a high-speed blender made him glance in the direction of the busy Starbucks. Bishop’s tongue caught in his throat when his eyes landed on the overly helpful man who’d approached him when he’d been surveying the Town Center property. Light eyes that brightened even more when he saw him. Shit. Bishop hoped like hell he wasn’t going to come over and try to… fuck.
Bishop panicked when the guy threw a finger up in his direction and stood from his round table, hurrying to gather his books and drink. He’d been sitting with someone, but he didn’t even bother to acknowledge his friend before he left him and came towards the front of the store.
No, no, no. Bishop hurried and untucked the workbook from his armpit and slid it underneath a stack of calendars on the table beside him. His hands almost shook as he made sure no parts of the elementary school book could be seen. Bishop looked up just in time to see Mr. Helpful entering at the opening of the line, making his way towards him with a surprised but slightly nervous expression playing over his face.
Bishop tried not to study him, but it was hard. The guy had a certain interesting quality to him. He was younger than him for sure, because his face was as smooth as silk, but he didn’t talk like it. He also didn’t dress like it. He had on slacks that fit his thick legs well and Bishop liked how they hugged him in all the right places. He had a slight pudge pushing against his nice leather belt and his chest was full, not broad and not ridged with definition either; but Bishop found he liked the way the whole package was put together.
“Hello,” the guy said in a pleasant tone, the word leaving those smiling lips on a winded breath.
Bishop nodded his head once then croaked, “Hey.”
“I’m um. I’m Edison. Do… do you remember me from the other night? I work at the—”
“I remember,” Bishop said, not meaning to cut him off, but he was nervous and pissed he’d almost got busted. Not only was Edison quite attractive up close and in all this bold lighting, but by-god he brought an amazing scent along with him. Clean, cool and inviting.
“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Edison laughed. He rubbed his hand down his sharp, black tie then glanced around as if he was searching for more words.
Bishop didn’t come to his rescue either. Instead, he continued to study Edison, not sure why he was so wound up around him. He was sure he was nothing but a laborer to this guy. However, he needed to play nice, he couldn’t jeopardize his job for anything. Bishop thought he’d done a good job on appearing less intimidating and not so ‘scowly’—as Mike had put it—however, Edison still wouldn’t meet and hold his eyes for long. When Bishop was able to remove his gaze from Edison’s soft-looking skin and full lips, he noticed he had two thick paperbacks braced in the crook of one arm.