I mull that over, “Huh.”
“And I mean it’s not like I’ll lie. If someone asksis Axel Davis your dadI’ll tell them yes. But if someone askswas Axel Davis a dick to work forI can also reply honestly with a yes.”
I have to smile at the genius of it all. “You’re a sneaky little shit.”
“I learned from the best.”
“Hmm, I won’t ask you to clarify.”
He chuckles, “Bye.”
The smile stays on my face as I hang up the call.
For a long while the plan has been to sell my shop to Brian when I retire. He’s grown up working on cars with me and claims he wants to be a part of the business. So it wasn’t like I was pressuring him to do it. But these past few years he’s spent most of his time fucking around and failing his classes, and it’s made me question my whole plan.
I don’t mind a little nepotism if it helps my kid get ahead in this shitty world. But I’m not going to hand him my life’s work if he’s not going to put in the effort to make it better. So him getting a job at a competitor’s shop… that shows a level of dedication I wasn’t sure he had in him. And it makes me proud.
My thoughts are distracted, and before I have time to prepare myself, the sign for BeanBag Coffee comes into view ahead of me.
It’s an unassuming building. One story, brick façade, big picture windows facing the street. A street lined with parking spots.
I slow and pull into one of the spots on my side of the road, opposite the building.
Leaving the engine running, I throw it into park and stare out my window, and into BeanBag.
The sun’s gone behind some clouds, making it possible for me to see in through the glass. The shop looks fairly busy – a few people standing in line, some bodies moving around behind the counter, half the tables filled with one or more customers – but I don’t seeher.
Maybe she’s not working.
Maybe she’s in the back doing bookkeeping.
Maybe she’s minding her own goddamn business just like I should do.
Take the sign. Leave. She’s not here.
I wait for the angel on my shoulder to say something. To tell me to leave, tell me to quit being a Stage 5 Clinger. Except the little angel is kicked back, legs crossed, with an arm thrown over his eyes. Clearly as fucking done with me as I am with my conscience.
My jaw tightens.
To creep or not to creep?
I scan the cars parked in front of the building, but it’s not like I know what she drives. Her car was hidden away in the garage when I was at her house.
At her house. In her bed. Her legs wrapped around me, as she grinded up against my-
“Jesus Christ.” I exhale a breath. I really have fucking lost it.
My hand closes around the shifter, preparing myself to leave, when a flash of black catches my attention.
I move my hand to the top of the steering wheel, using my grip as leverage to turn my body straight on so I can get a better look. And just like that, there she is. All wide eyes, pink cheeks, and wild black hair framing her beautiful face.
My pulse slows. Heat infusing my blood at the sight of her, but somehow seeing her – knowing she’s close – calms me.
She moves out of view for one agonizing second, then reappears on the front side of the counter, meaning I can see all of her.
She winds between tables, picking up empty cups, chatting with the people she passes. Looking comfortable and content.
I shouldn’t be here.