Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
“Fine.”
I scanned the next package and figured I might as well go in for the kill since no one was around. “You remember that time you said you owed me?” A day ago.
He didn’t say anything, and I peeked up at him.
Since his eyebrows couldn’t talk, they formed a shape that told me exactly how distrustful he was feeling right then.
“You do, okay. Well,” and I lowered my voice, “I was going to ask if I could redeem that favor.”
Those gray eyes stayed narrowed.
This was going well.
I glanced around to make sure no one was listening and quickly said, “When you aren’t busy… could you teach me about all this stuff? Even if it’s just a little bit?”
That got him to blink in what I was pretty sure was surprise. And to give him credit, he too lowered his voice as he asked slowly and possibly in confusion, “What stuff?”
I tipped my head to the side. “All this stuff in here. Fishing, camping, you know, general knowledge I might need to work here so I have an idea of what I’m doing.”
There was another blink.
I might as well go for it. “Only when you aren’t super busy. Please. If you can, but if you can’t, that’s okay.” I’d just cry myself to sleep at night. No biggie.
Worst case, I could hit up the library on my days off. Hang out in the grocery store parking lot and google information. I could make it work. I would, regardless.
Dark, thick, black eyelashes dipped over his nice eyes, and his voice came out low and even. “You’re serious?” He thought I was shitting him.
“Dead.”
His head turned to the side, giving me a good view of his short but really pretty eyelashes. “You want me to teach you to fish?” he asked like he couldn’t believe it, like I’d asked him to… I don’t know, show me his wiener.
“You don’t have to teach me to fish, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. I haven’t been in forever. But more about everything else. Like, what is the point of these two different kinds of line? What are all the lures good for? Or are they called flies? Do you really need those gadgets to start a fire?” I knew I was whispering as I said, “I have so many random questions, and not having internet makes it hard to look things up. Your total is $40.69, by the way.”
My landlord blinked for about the hundredth time at that point, and I was pretty sure he was either confused or stunned as he pulled his wallet out and slipped his card through the reader, his gaze staying on me for the majority of the time in that long, watchful way that was completely different from the way the older men had been eyeballing me earlier. Not sexually or with interest, but more like I was a raccoon and he wasn’t sure if I had rabies or not.
In a weird way, I preferred it by a lot.
I smiled. “It’s okay if not,” I told him, handing over a small paper bag with his purchases inside.
The tall man took it from me and let his eyes wander to a spot to my left. His Adam’s apple bobbed; then he took a step back and sighed. “Fine. Tonight, 7:30. I’ve got thirty minutes and not one longer.”
What!
“You’re my hero,” I whispered.
He looked at me, then blinked.
“I’ll be there, thank you,” I told him.
He grunted, and before I could thank him again, he was out of there so fast I had no chance to check out his butt in those work pants of his.
Either way, I couldn’t help but be relieved.
That had gone better than I’d expected.
* * *
I was still in shock over my tutoring lesson when the alarm on my phone went off at 7:25 p.m.
I’d set it so that I’d have more than enough time to finish whatever I was doing—that was putting together a puzzle I’d bought at the dollar store—and walk next door.
Was it dumb that I was nervous? Maybe. I didn’t want to say or do anything to get me kicked out ahead of time.
But I hated screwing up.
And I hated being in a position where I was unprepared.
Most of all, I didn’t like to feel dumb. Yet that was exactly how I’d felt way too many times while working at the shop. I was fully aware there was nothing wrong with me not knowing things—because I was sure I knew a hell of a lot more about a lot of things than other people did. I’d like to see most people work in a music store. Personally, I’d kill it. I’d spent the last decade of my life around musicians. The amount of random knowledge I’d picked up over the years, surprised me. I could keep time and decently play three instruments.