Page 93 of Adoring Fletcher
“Where are you living?”Please tell me you’re not living on the streets…I remembered those days far too well, though they were long ago now. Sleeping on street benches and eating out of dumpsters wasn’t a life I’d wish upon anyone.
“With a guy from this pack, I guess. He lives a few blocks from here. HIs name is Jem, but he’s at work and I didn’t want to be alone in the house.” He pulled his notebook a little closer, as if trying to protect it from some unseen force.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, changing the subject before I set him off. “Can I get you some lunch?”
Sky hunched his scrawny shoulders. “I don’t have any money,” he mumbled.
“That’s okay,” I said. “Do you like hamburgers? Or are you more of a chicken tender kind of guy?”
He frowned, staring at me with a confused expression. “I… I can’t pay for it?”
“Burger or chicken?” I repeated gently.
“Chicken?”
“Dipping sauce preference? We have BBQ, ranch, honey mustard…” I trailed off.
“Ranch?” He seemed so shocked that I would go out of my way to be nice to him.
“Sounds delicious,” I said around a grin. “I’ll be back out shortly.”
I went inside, washed my hands, and began breading chicken tenders for the frier.
Adam chose that moment to come strolling up, smelling of fries and onion rings. “Feeling a little peckish?” he teased.
“Nah, it’s for Sky,” I replied, flipping the chicken tenders over in the seasoning mix.
“Sky?”
“The guy that sits outside?” I said. “Notebook Guy?”
I didn’t need to see Adam’s face to know that his smile had fallen. “Oh.” Adam didn’t like Sky, for one reason or another.
I huffed at him, tossing the tenders into a fry basket and then carefully lowering them into the hot, bubbling oil.
I turned back to my mate. “Everyone has a past, Adam. He doesn’t seem like a bad person. I’m giving him lunch. That’s it. What’s the harm in that?”
When I took the plate of tenders and curly fries out to Sky, his eyes went round and I could’ve sworn he was drooling. I had to bite back my laughter, not wanting to offend him.
“That looks…so good,” he admitted.
I beamed. “Made it myself. Enjoy.” I slid the plate across the table to him, placed down a tall glass of strawberry lemonade, then retreated back into the diner without another word.
Adam and I both watched from behind the curtains as Sky practically inhaled the food. He ate with both hands, scarfing it like it was the last meal he’d ever taste. He even licked the sauce cup clean.
“Damn,” Adam murmured.
“Aww, he’s so hungry. It’s triggering my paternal instincts,” I said, clutching my chest.
Adam snorted softly. “He’s hardly a child, kitten.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “I know that.”
But it gave me an idea, one that bit at me like a persistent little flea all day and all night.
A few days later, I saw Sky sitting outside and decided to take a break from work to go talk to him.
Over the last couple of weeks, he’d opened up to me a little bit, but he still protected his notebook like a dog with a bone. He slapped it shut the moment I drew near, a low growl rumbling up his throat.
