“And some wings,” Cordell chimes in.
“Anything else?” I say sarcastically, earning another smile from Lo. This time it’s genuine.
Jake drops off the food thirty minutes later, and I motion for Lo to follow me.
“What if someone comes in?” she asks, hooking a thumb toward the door.
“They’ll get it,” I assure her. I lead her to the bigger waiting area. It’s completely empty of clients. I walk over to the table and drop the food down, motioning for her to take a seat on the bench seat. I grab two beers and a water bottle. Gotta have options. When I turn back for the table, Lo is sitting there, chin propped on her fist, full lips in a pout, staring at the table.
Don’t ask her if she’s okay. Don’t ask her if she’s okay.
“You okay?” Smooth. She doesn’t answer, or even seem to hear me. “Lo.” Still nothing. “Logan,” I say, louder this time, and her head snaps up. “What’s wrong? And don’t say ‘nothing’, because I can tell something is bothering you. Unless you suddenly fell in love with pizza and that’s a wistful look on your face and not a troubled one.”
She gives a sad smile and shakes her head. “Sorry. I’m just thinking.”
“About…?” I hedge. “Is that guy still bothering you?”
“No, I mean, yes, he’s still calling, but it’s not about him.” I knew he was, whoever he is, but her confirmation has my hands tightening into fists. I don’t have a good feeling about that guy. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate. I’m worried about Jess, worried about him finishing school, worried that I’m fucking this whole thing up, worried about where we’re going to live—”
“No luck on that?” I interrupt. This sad, maybe slightly vulnerable side of her is a stark contrast to the bold, confident one that I’m used to seeing.
“I’ve looked online, but there’s nothing to rent. I found one place, but I haven’t heard back.”
She’s right. In order to find a place to rent in this town, you pretty much have to know someone. Rentals are few and far between, and they go fast.
“Can I ask you a question?” I hate when people ask if they can ask a question, but this one has the potential to piss her off, so I tread carefully. She nods in acquiesce. “Where is your mom?” These aren’t things a twenty-one-year-old girl should be worrying about. I get that Henry hasn’t been in their lives, but that doesn’t explain who’s been taking care of them all these years.
“At this very moment? Jail. Drugs,” she tacks on as she reaches into the bag, pulling out a fry. No sadness or shame in this statement. Just cold facts.
“Fuck.”
“It’s better this way,” she says, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “She was more of a pain in my ass when she wasn’t locked up.”
“Where’s Henry going?” I grab a burger out of one of the bags and hand it to her.
“I assume he’ll just stay in the room at the auto shop. The plan was always to get our own place anyway. It just happened a little sooner than we expected.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” I say before clearing my throat awkwardly. I don’t know how to do this shit. I don’t know how to be a friend. When I took Asher in, it was easy because neither of us was big on talking. He needed a job and a place to sleep, and I gave it to him. He also doesn’t get my dick hard, so there’s that. With Lo, I have this innate need to make sure she’s okay, and I don’t know what the fuck to do with that.
“We’ll figure it out. We always do. You’ve helped enough. You know, with the job and all.”
After that, there are no words. We dig in, eating in silence. Lo moans when she takes a bite, and the sound goes straight to my cock. Her phone buzzes on the table in between us, and my guard goes up instantly, but I relax when I realize she’s talking to her brother.
“Of course, it did,” she says, giving a humorless lau
gh, dragging a hand through her messy brown hair. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but it’s clearly not good news. “Okay. No, don’t worry about me. Did you manage to get what you needed?” A pause. “Good. Okay. I’ll see you tonight.”
“What was that about?”
“The Toyota died. Henry’s picking Jesse up and seeing what’s wrong. Take me home?” she asks, batting those pretty doe eyes, sticking her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.
Like I’d say no to her.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind waiting around until I close.”
“Nope. I’ve got nothing else to do anyway.”
Once we’re finished with our food, we get back to work. Lo calls the next day’s clients to confirm their appointments while I set up for my next session. Tuesdays are generally slow, so Cordell and Matty end up taking off around ten, leaving Lo and me alone. She sways her hips, singing along to “Wrong Way” by Sublime as she cleans the windows, and I excuse myself to the drawing room before I do something stupid. Like bend her over the front desk.