Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I winced, giving myself away. “Why don’t you set me straight?”
“Why do you care so much?”
I swallowed thickly. “Because you’re a human being. And my dog is obviously very fond of you, so I figure he knows something I don’t.”
When he grinned, it was as if the skies had opened and poured sunshine down on him. He was very handsome and charming, I’d give him that. I couldn’t help thinking what he might’ve looked like without the shaggy hair and beard.
“The shelters are very helpful if you can get a bed. But they fill up fast. They do offer meals and other services, but the residents get first dibs. The truth is…I like my tent and keeping track of my stuff. And sometimes the shelters have bedbugs, but it’s not because we’re dirty—though cleanliness can be hard to maintain. If you get a bed, they have rules like showering and clean sheets, but sometimes it’s hard to stop community transmission.”
“That makes sense.” And it seemed he liked this location—maybe he had his reasons. Hopefully the assault was a one-off from a shitty, drunk guy.
“I happen to be a clean freak.” He looked away. “Though you’d never know it.”
“I can tell by your sneakers.” I looked down at the black-and-white pair on his feet.
His eyes flashed to mine. “You can?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, they’re cleaner than mine.”
When he let out a robust laugh, it was the greatest sound.
“Where did you use to live—before?” I asked hesitantly. This conversation was important, and I didn’t want to ruin it.
He smirked. “Before sleeping near a trash can?”
My face felt hot. “Well…yeah.”
“Akron. But I grew up in Cleveland, so…”
Were his parents still around? Did they know he was without a home?
“Do you have any family or friends to—”
“You can only rely on their hospitality for so long, especially when you’re a total mess.”
My pulse spiked at the admission. “Why were you a total mess?”
I saw the moment his expression shuttered, and his shoulders seemed to curl inward as if the subject was painful. “Nah, I won’t bore you with the details.”
“What if I’m not bored?”
He had trouble looking me in the eye when he said, “Normally, you have to get to work by this time.”
That was when I noticed the braided-leather bracelets on his right hand, and directly below, his banged-up fingers. Two of the knuckles looked swollen and crooked. My stomach lurched.
“You’re right. Guess I lost track of time.” I stood and wiped imaginary dirt off my knees. “Want some coffee this morning?”
He held up a hand. “No, I’m good for today.”
I couldn’t help feeling like the energy had changed between us. I might’ve inquired too much, pushed too far, and I needed to respect his boundaries. I’d try not to make that mistake again. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if I could help him in a different way—money, somewhere to live until he could make it on his own—but from the little I knew about him, he’d be too proud and private to accept any of that.
“If you’re sure.” I frowned as he nodded. “Oh, before I forget…I brought you something.” I reached into the inside pocket of my coat and took out the book. I’d hoped I’d see him again one of these mornings.
“Holy crap, you’re kidding.” He reached for it, brushed the front cover as if it evoked a memory, before carefully opening to the first page, which was stamped with the CSU symbol. “It’s from your university library? I…I can’t…”
“Sure you can. Just return it to me when you’re finished.” I winked. “And if you want to read anything else, I have my own little collection of books at home.”
“I…well…thank you.” I could see the gratitude in his eyes and was so damned glad he’d accepted the offer. “How about that coffee?”
I grinned, feeling like we’d found common ground again. “Coming right up!”
5
LACHLAN
What would Foster think if he knew why I was living on the streets? The shame I felt for not standing up for myself sooner, for being too scared to make a move… I glanced at my knuckles, wishing I’d stayed at the hospital that night. I was embarrassed to admit that living on the streets was sort of a relief because it was just me and the elements, and that was my singular goal—to keep myself dry and safe and fed for one more day.
I shuffled in line with my tray and was served soup and a sandwich. “Thank you.” I made sure to always show gratitude because the volunteers were hardworking and donated their time. Tessa’s cousin, Officer Holt, sometimes showed up to lend a hand. He was friendly and engaging and probably the only police officer any of us felt comfortable around. Mostly.
I sat down at the end of a long table and listened to others’ conversations, absently nodding here and there so I didn’t appear rude. But there were other things on my mind that morning, and as soon as I finished my food, I slid the tray aside and pulled out the book Foster had given me.