Page 11 of Kade
Kade looks at me expectantly, like he’s anticipating myyes. Jesus. Who is this man? Who does that? Just give a stranger three grand like it’s nothing. Not to mention the hours they’ll have to spend to fix it. I take a moment to find just the right words.
“That’s really generous of you, Kade. Really. I don’t know what to say except…no fucking way.” I smile and nod at him. Kade’s shoulders drop, his eyes widen, and his mouth drops open.
“I…What?”
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” He relaxes again, and I continue, “No fucking way are you fixing my car and paying for it yourself. Thank you very much for the offer, though.”
His mouth is open again. The poor guy looks so confused.
“Did you actually think I’d say thank you and just let you pay?” He nods slowly at me. I tilt my head. “Huh,” I say, considering him, “Am I safe in assuming I’m not the first damsel in distress you’ve helped?”
Kade’s face shuts down, and I have my answer before he mutters, “No.”
“Gotcha.”
He’s got a hero complex. Last night is making a lot more sense. He actually couldn’t walk away and let me be. I wonder why?
“Well, taking handouts from strangers isn’t really something I do. I clean up my own messes.” Admittedly, this mess is big, but I always handle my shit. Always. I don’t actually have a clue how exactly I’m going to do that, though.
I think better when I’m moving. Running in place, I sort through my options. “It’s probably not worth fixing. It’s a fifteen-year-old car.” I stop to chew on my pinkie nail, but my jittery legs force me to keep moving. “I’ve got a little bit of cash. Maybe I can find a hostel. Or couch surf. But shit, where do I keep my stuff?”
I’m vaguely aware of Kade’s bobbing head in my peripheral vision.
“Maybe a hotel for a few days? But then what? I’ll have blown through the cash I have before I know it. Even if I get a job with great tips, it’ll take me forever to save up enough to pay another first and last month’s rent. Agh! Fuck you, Cassandra!” I finish dramatically, shooting both middle fingers up to the sky.
Kade’s voice sounds strangled when he asks, “Who’s Cassandra?” I stop jogging and swing toward him.
“She’s a lying, thieving, conniving fucking bitch.” Kade’s face looks kinda sweaty. “You okay? You look a little warm.” I hide my smile and jump a bit. Yep, his face goes blank and gets redder, and his eyes lock on my chest.
“They’re nice, huh?”
Kade clears his throat and shakes his head. “What?”
“My boobs!” I jump again for emphasis. “See!” I have to clench my teeth to keep from laughing. His head is bobbing every time I jump. Thank you, stretched-out sports bra.
Kade shakes his head. “What? No. Yes. Fuck.”
He covers his eyes for a minute and takes a deep breath that stretches his T-shirt across his chest. Now I’m staring.
“Can you focus, please?” Frustration colors his words.
I nod and let my smile slip out. He narrows his eyes at me, then clears his throat.
“Okay.” He draws the word out before continuing, “Cassandra. She’s a bitch. Why? What’s she done to you?”
I don’t want to tell him. I don’t want to admit it to this put-together man. This man, who can spend three thousand dollars on a stranger without a second thought and has tires on his truck worth more than my entire car. But what would be the point of lying? I pull my big girl panties up, push my shoulders back and look him right in the eye.
“She’s the woman who conned me out of twenty-seven hundred bucks.” I press my palm to my forehead. Fuck, now I’m sweating. “I paid her first and last and a security deposit. We were going to be roommates. But when I got to the building…well, she doesn’t live there and never did.”
He raises his eyebrows and whistles through his teeth. How do guys do that? I spent the entire summer between fifth and sixth grade trying to learn how to whistle like that.
I passed out three times.
“Well fuck. Thieving bitch is right.” He takes a step toward me. He’s stopped looking at me like a puzzle. Instead, he looks…angry? “And her number’s not in service, right?”
I nod. He shakes his head, walking over to the desk and grabbing paper and a pen, dropping them on the reception desk between us. “Write down any information you have for her. How you first connected, names, phone number, email. Anything you have.” His eyes are blazing, a deep V arrowing between his dark eyebrows.
“What are you going to do?” He looks like he could fly into a rage. It’s kinda hot.
