Page 49 of Malaise
He glances down at me, a small smirk on his lips. “Tell me….”
“Yeah?” I pop a hip and lean into the back of the car.
“Does this make us a ‘thing’ yet?”
God I hope so. “Mmm, not sure. You can cook,” I tease, counting off on my fingers, “and I’m pretty sure you can do your own laundry, right?”
He nods, his smile growing.
“Do you take the trash out without being asked? Change the toilet roll when it’s finished? And do you separate your whites and colours?” I ask with a stern frown.
He wraps a hand around the back of my neck and pulls me in close with a chuckle as his lips rest against my forehead. “For you, whatever you want, babe.”
“You might do, then.” I back up and wave a dismissive hand at him. He watches with a broad smile as I strut around to the passenger door and pull it open. “Come on, then. Let’s go get your lady lunch.”
***
I was kidding about us definitely being a thing now—that decision is completely in his court after what he said about this being too dangerous—but with the way he hasn’t stopped smiling since, I wonder if my joke was lost on him. He knows I was kidding, right? Shit. He couldn’t have thought I was serious. I mean, I want to be serious, but he had a valid point. He’s like eight or nine years older, and then there’s the whole issue with his family—well, his dad—and the fact I’m not eighteen yet… oh my God, what if he wasserious?
“How’s the deluxe?” he asks, pointing to my greasy burger.
“What did I have last time?”
“The double bacon special.”
I twist my lips in contemplation. “I think the special was better to be honest; I could fit the damn thing in my mouth.”
He chuckles, and promptly takes a bite of his without so much as the need to unhinge his jaw. I scowl with jealousy and squish mine down further to make it a more palatable size.
“When do you start your shift?” he asks around a mouthful.
“Four.”
He turns his head to check the clock over the counter, and I unashamedly stare at his strong profile. Even if he did take my little role play at the car seriously, I shouldn’t complain. Maybe I just instigated the best thing to happen to me since, well, ever?
“You’ve got almost five hours to fill.”
I lean forward, hands folded under my chin, and ask, “What’s the plan then?” The fact it’s a Tuesday and that he’s not a student hits me suddenly. “Wait. What about you? When do you next work?”
Carver shakes his head and pushes a loose sliver of onion back in his burger. “Don’t need to worry about that anymore.”
I detect the hint of aggravation and ask, “Why?”
“Got a call yesterday before I picked you up.” He sticks his index finger in his mouth to lick the sauce off. Dead. I’m dead. “They fired me.”
“What the fuck for?” I exclaim.
An old couple in matching polo shirts give me the side-eye for my outburst.
“Some jackass filmed that bust-up with Jasper at the bonfire and uploaded it. Thing got around, and when my boss saw it he didn’t want me associated with the place anymore.”
“That’s screwed up. Surely you have grounds to appeal?”
“Not really.” He ducks his head to one shoulder, eyes on the burger. “But that’s my problem, not yours. You,” he says, lifting both eyebrows, “will need to iron your uniform, or at least have a shower before you go to work, right?”
“Killjoy,” I mumble, wrangling my burger together for another bite. “Where will I do that? I mean, if borrowing your shower is out of the question.”
He sighs and sets the last quarter of his burger down. “I can message Tanya, see if he’s still there, but Meg….”