I parked in front of the bookstore, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel of my Subaru as I stared at the door.
You promised Dad. I reminded myself. After this song is done.
I closed my eyes, continuing to tap my fingers to the beat, my feet joining the symphony. I had been listening to a lot of pop that last few days, channeling my anxious energy towards something happy. I was usually a metal only girl, but the pop seemed to be taking away some of the edge I always had about me. It was hard to be miserable when Adam Levine was serenading you. As the final lyrics I knew by heart came to an end my pulse rushed in my ears, and I let my eyes slowly open.
You can do this.
In my anxiety over the way the girls acted and the fact I realized I had no valuable relationships, I had forgotten that Trent told Andrea he had a girlfriend. I swallowed as I grabbed my purse and got out of the car. I needed to figure out if this was some kind of game, or if Trent's attention to me was all in my head. I pushed my shoulders back and took a deep breath before heading to the door. I paused when I got there, my hand frozen on the metal warmed by the morning sun.
You can do this.
I breathed the dry air into my lungs before stepping into the air conditioned building. Despite having lived all over the US, I enjoyed the heat of Arizona the most. Dry heat was much easier to deal with than the humidity of Florida, and I was never a fan of the stale air AC systems produced. I paused in the front, quickly assessing the store. Trent was at the front, kneeling down as he grabbed some books from the return rack. I was caught off guard by the way his jeans pulled perfectly around his ass and the shape of his back muscles against the tight t-shirt.
I shook my head as I turned to the bargain section of cookbooks. I concentrated on rifling through them, but the thought of Trent didn't leave my mind.
Cookbooks, El. Cookbooks.
There always seemed to be a plethora of them on clearance, and I wondered how good they could be if the store was always selling them at cost. I picked a slow cooker one up and flipped through the pages.
“You cook?” Trent's voice echoed behind me, and I bit the inside of my lip to keep from smiling as I turned to face him.
He leaned against the shelf behind us, one leg crossed behind the other as he smirked down at me. He was never completely shaved, and today was no exception. It was amazing to me that overnight he seemed to have grown twice as much facial hair as yesterday.
I shook my head slowly, the book still in my hand.
He nodded to it. “Then why are you looking at a really bad cookbook? Fifty Shades of Crock Pottery?”
I looked down at it, my heart hammering as I glanced back up at him, cocking my head. “I was interested in how you hog tie a chicken.”
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