Fall Back Skyward (Fall Back #1)(40)

“Such a large ego,” Megs says.

“The bigger the ego, the bigger the dick.” He winks.

Megs narrows her eyes and props her hands on her hips. “Been there. Tapped that. It’s not that impressive.”

Blond Boy smirks. “Two hours ago you were worshipping my dick reverently. Didn’t you say it’s God’s gift to womankind?”

She rolls her eyes again. “Just serve us our coffee, Mr. Frilly Apron, or I will write a bad review to Mr. Spinner.”

“I’m his James Bond. Secret weapon. He can’t afford to fire me.” He smirks. “And he’s my uncle. He wouldn’t fire his only nephew.”

He swaggers to the counter, leaps to the other side, then spins around and focuses those hazel eyes on me. His gaze momentarily wanders to my arms. They widen and he clears his throat before looking up at me. My stomach flutters nervously as I wait for his verdict. He’s Megs’ friend and I really want him to like me.

I hold my breath as an awkward tension fills our conversation.

He licks his lips. “Green eyes. Red hair. Pixie-tall. Um. Let me guess. Cole’s hot new neighbor?” He grins, and reaches up for two mugs from the little cupboard on the side and then narrows his eyes. “I’m still waiting for you to sprout little gossamer wings and fly. You do have wings, don’t you? And a pouch full of fairy dust?”

My breath rushes out of my mouth and I laugh. As much as I’m trying to be brave about working on this new me, I’m still terrified of being judged. Of rejection. “Be very careful, Blondie, or I might blind you with a dash of my glittery fairy dust.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Blondie? Of all the names out there, you chose Blondie?”

“Oh, what do you want me to call you?” I tease.

“Edwards,” he says in a deep voice. “Simon Edwards.” He slides a mug of coffee in front of me and another to Megs, and then stands back and stares at us expectantly. I love the faint taste of nutmeg and vanilla flavoring he added in the coffee.

“Good coffee, Edwards. Simon Edwards,” I say.

He grins. “I like you, Keds. Your boy is in there.” He points to the doorway that has a little board with the words “Book Nook” on the door.

“My boy?” I ask him, glancing down at my navy blue sneakers with little yellow and white hearts on them.

“Cole. Go ahead,” he says quietly. And with that, he turns to focus on the little ball of fire that is Megs.

“Oh, before you go, would you like to check out this amazing clothing store just a few blocks from here. They have discounts like all the time. You game?” Megs asks, tapping a finger on the side of her mug to the rhythm of the The Chiffon’s One Fine Day, playing on the jukebox.

I nod and smile. I’m not really in a hurry to tell her that I don’t have money to spend on clothing at the moment. I try to save up every cent I get and use it only when absolutely necessary. I used to work in a candy shop on the weekends in Ohio. The pay wasn’t great, but it served me well during emergencies.

When Mom married my dad, her life became all about being a mom and a housewife. She never went to college, which is something she really regrets. She once confided in me that my sisters and I have a college fund, courtesy of her and her parents. No one else other than her and me or my sisters could withdraw money from the account. The money would only be released to us if and when we started college. Dad gives my sisters and I pocket money. It’s not a lot, so we have to make do with what we have. Admitting this to Megs is embarrassing, which is why I let the forced smile linger on my face and turn to study the little shop while trying to work up the courage to walk inside the book nook.

Standing up, I inch toward the book nook. My step falters when a group of boys and girls sitting in a booth a few feet away, stare in my direction and begin to whisper among themselves, while pointing at my arms. I bite the inside of my cheek and drop my gaze to the floor to block the judgmental looks.

“I’m more than enough,” I mutter under my breath. “Nothing else matters.” I whisper these words over and over to drown out their murmurs and gawking.

I’ve been working hard to nurture the new me. Hiding from people and feeling ashamed doesn’t help me achieve that.

Raising my chin, I look up, meeting each and every one of their gazes. My momentary bravery might be stupid. Confronting them could end up hurting me even more than their stares, if they decide to use words as their weapon. But I have accepted what I did. I’m not going to stand by and let anyone make me feel like I’m a freak of nature.

“If you have something to say, say it because it’s rude to stare,” I say in the most polite voice I can muster.

They drop their gazes one by one.

Relief bursts through me when a few whispered “sorry” reach me where I’m standing, nervous and unsure what my next step should be.

I glance back at the door before me, suddenly feeling hot and as if my stomach is full of butterflies. I don’t even know why I’m nervous. It’s not like we don’t see each other every day. Or I haven’t stopped having inappropriate thoughts about his hands touching me, and his mouth kissing me. Heat fans my face. Gah! He will know what I’m thinking as soon as I step inside the room.

I straighten, pluck a lemon drop from my purse and pop it in my mouth. And then I push the ‘Book Nook’ door slightly and duck my head.