Fruitbat

5. 5

5

Si

11:37 pm

He’s kinda cute.

— And looks so uncomfortable.

“Can I help?” I reach for the box. He really shouldn't be working, after that crazy tumble.

“I’m okay.” Danny recoils away from me. “You don’t have to stick around. I’ve got tons to do.” His cheeks glow pink. ‘Thanks again, for checking on me.’’

“Danny, you just took a serious fall. You passed out—For quite a while.” I wing my arms and shift weight onto one hip, insisting he hand me the box. “I’ll hold these for you. You can load the shelf.” Compromise .

He pauses, staring at the gap where the bars fit, before huffing and propping the box against the shelf with his knee but letting me scoop my hands under for support.

I smile, dig my heels into the floor, arch my back, and grin.

Danny chews his lip, and furrows his brow, grabbing fistfuls of wrapped bars and shoving them into their designated space.

His dark t-shirt is worn-thin and faded. The fabric pulls taut over his thick body. The blush, lingering on in his button nose and big ears, slowly settles back down to match his pale skin. Tiny punctures in his ears hint at traces of old piercings he’s let go of.

His mullet is a tangle of glossy waves, and his body heat carries the scent of sweet cinnamon toast. His black jeans aren’t as faded as his t-shirt and hug the curve of his plump ass and tree-trunk legs deliciously.

I push my bottom lip forward and blow, to dry away the bead of sweat forming on my left brow.

His warm maple eyes meet mine.

I smile but he shies away. Though I’m sure I see the far side of his mouth curl, slightly.

He finishes loading the shelf and takes the empty box. Our fingers touch for a second, igniting a pop of electricity that surges through me, curling my toes.

“What’s next?” I ask.

Playing shopkeep will be fun!

“Not much, really.” He waddles back to the counter.

“Are you by yourself all night?” I’m curious .

“Yeah,” he huffs, ripping the bottom of the box open, stretching the cardboard flat, and tucking it into the back office.

I lean over the counter and browse a selection of plastic lighters, standing at attention in their display, tapping each with the tip of my finger.

“That must make for a long night?” I pretend to read the back of an unscratched lottery ticket, while peering through my lashes at him.

He’s scoping out the store, mapping his next task, looking lost.

“Maybe you should sit down for a bit.” I worry, nodding at the folded metal stool, leaning against the wall.

“I’m okay,” he shrugs, unfurling the seat and plopping down on it anyway.

“How long have you worked here?” I ask, twisting a crunchy curl around my finger, breaking the gel cast, and tugging the softened strand.

“Too long,” he says, as he wrinkles his face in distaste, avoiding eye contact with me.

I push off the counter, and spin on my heel, traipsing down an aisle to browse the selection of goods.

It’s your typical convenience store. Snacks, cleaning products, air fresheners, a self-serve coffee station, an empty plexiglass box with a heat lamp for warming whatever quick meal is usually on display, and two walls of refrigerators that wrap the rest of the store .

I collect an energy drink from a cooler, strut back to the front, drop it down on the counter, and reach for my wallet.

“Shit!.” I left it at home with my phone. “Never mind.” My face cooks as I start back to return the can.

“Take it.” Danny calls after me.

“I don’t have my money.” I retort, spinning back toward him.

He folds his heavy arms across his chest. “It’s on me.” His grin is sly and a dimple dips in one cheek.

I melt.

“I can pay you later, give me your number and I’ll Apple Pay you.” Smooth, right? I smile.

“Don’t worry about it.” He lifts off the stool and moves toward the row of coffee pots, hauling one off the shelf and trudging toward the back of the store.

I pop my can and take a long swig, setting it back on the counter, following him with my eyes as I round the far side of the store, and meet him at his destination.

He bends to set the thermos on the floor, and his shirt rides up his back, exposing milky skin, peppered with a dark patch of hair that swirls into the crack of his ass cleavage.

I lick my lips and swallow the pool under my tongue.

He cranks the faucet of the deep utility sink and reaches for the thermos.

I beat him to it, hauling the silver cylinder up and into the basin, pushing him aside with my hip. The static of his body tingles down my side as he stands close, watching me fill the jug.

I peer coyly, over my shoulder, and smile.