Page 104 of Embriagado

“Should I put those boxes in the back?” I asked the store manager, a twenty-two-year-old idiot who still had pimples on his chin.

Not looking up from the comic he was reading, he waved his hand in the air. “Sure, just stick them somewhere.”

I glared at him, beyond tempted to bust his head open over the counter he had his legs propped up on. This little prick had been bossing me around for the past few days while all he did was read his comics with chicks that had boobs the size of watermelons. I think they were called manga or some shit. I only knew because Nacio loved them, too, and he used to have posters on his wall of those big-eyed, 2D, overly sexualized girls.

Grabbing the boxes from the floor, I carried them to the back storage, where I began unpacking them. To think, only a week ago, I was making money from fighting, and here I was now, stocking canned beans on shelves. But back there, I’d fought for him, for that white-haired psycho. Swear to God, each second I spent by his side shortened my life span. So stocking cans and soda bottles wasn’t too bad. Sure, I was earning close to nothing, but at least this job was legal. I mean, after getting out of prison, I did promise myself to do better, and as shitty as it was, this was it.

This was what making an honest living was all about—and I hated every second of it.

And while it sucked balls, I had to be grateful they’d hired me in the first place. It was insane how many places refused to so much as speak to me because of my past. Truth was, nobody gave a shit about me, and on most days, it felt like no one even saw me.

I’ll tell you a secret, Mr. Rivas. I’m a big fan of second chances.

Fuck, why did I remember that now? It wasn’t like he was genuine then either. He’d just said those words to make me feel important and fall for his act… and fall, I did. But could you blame me? For better or worse, Ariyan noticed me. I mean, when he looked down on me with those golden eyes of his, he still looked at me. And when I fought for him, he watched me.

Just thinking about how I felt under his intense gaze turned me inside out, and I had to shake the thoughts out of my head. I hated him almost as much as I hated the way he made me feel, but at the same time, I… missed it?

Fuck no.

I was being crazy right now. My body was probably reacting this way because I was pent-up. Yeah, that was it. When was the last time I’d actually had sex and not with my right hand? I paused for a moment, trying to calculate the dates, when I realized it was cutting close to a month and a half. Fucking shit. I was dying for some human contact… skin-to-skin action and all that other crap. No wonder Ariyan was all I could think of when he was the only dude I’d hooked up with after I got out. Sure, there was also Gabriel, but he didn’t really count. Whatever this madness was, the best solution would be to get fucking laid. Maybe after my shift, I’d go out and fuck somebody. Yeah, that sounded like a decent plan, but first things first, I’d have to finish up here.

Still sitting on my knees in front of the shelves, I reached back to grab a new can when my hand knocked over the pile I’d stocked out of the box, and one can began to roll on the floor. I reached to grab it before it got too far away, cursing my shitty job, when someone stopped it by stepping on it.

My first thought was that the store manager had finally got his ass moving, only it wasn’t him, unless he’d replaced his ugly sandals with shiny black shoes. My temperature immediately spiked, and slowly, I glanced up, my brows creasing the more I saw of his black tux until my stare locked on his stupidly pretty face.

“Good evening, Mr. Rivas.”

“What the hell?” I hissed, confused as to what this devil was doing here.

Ariyan’s lips curled into his familiar smile before he took his shoe off the can and crouched to pick it up.

“One hundred percent beef.” He read the label before lifting his gaze to meet mine. “Who on earth eats this?”

I snatched the can out of his hand and turned to put it on the shelf, doing my best to avoid eye contact with him.

“People who can’t afford better,” I muttered, annoyed by his sweet scent that reached me.

“How poor of you.”

Asshole.

Still crouching next to me, I could feel his eyes on me. It made my heart beat faster and my nape sweaty. Nervous, I pressed my lips together and tried to keep it cool until he left.

“You never came to take your share,” he said.

Grabbing a new box, I opened it and began piling the supplies on the shelves.

“I don’t need your dirty money.”

“All money is dirty.”

“Not true.”

“How would you know if you’ve never had any to begin with?”

My eyes snapped to his, a decision I regretted the second he smiled at me, and my heart fucking leaped.

Shit.