Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
She smiles at me, but I only know that because of her eyes. She looks so happy as they light up.
“I may have to try one when I’m finished.” I eat my first taco in two bites and then drink half my beer. I have the second one gone before I take a breath and now she’s staring at me like I’ve got two heads. I shrug as I pick up my third one and smile. “I was hungry.”
“Sorry,” she says and looks away, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to stare. I mean, I had four churros and that was after dinner, so I really have no room to talk. I never have this much sugar at one time and I’m feeling a bit jittery.”
Her words fall out in a rush and I laugh a little as I wipe the napkin across my mouth. She sounds like a kid who's been given caffeine for the first time in their life. But I can tell this is pure joy for her and it’s a bit infectious.
“Think you could go for a fifth?” I ask, and she thinks for just a second before she looks down at the ground and shakes her head.
It’s then I wonder if it’s about wanting one and not being able to have it, or if it’s about the money. A young woman like her shouldn’t be alone on the river out here at night.
Getting up, I go back to the stand and get two more churros. I hand one to her and it takes her a second before her small gloved hand reaches out and takes it from me.
“Thank you,” she mumbles and greedily eats it.
“They’re pretty good,” I say when the warm, chewy sugar crunches between my teeth. “But I don’t know how you ate five of them.”
She laughs as she looks over at me. “I think I’m on a sugar high.”
“You look sweet enough,” I say, glancing over at her. Her cheeks turn bright pink just before she looks away.
We sit in silence for a bit as we watch the swans swim by and I keep looking over at her.
“Thank you for the extra sugar,” she says abruptly and stands up. “I have to go.”
Before I can say a word she takes off at a quick pace in the opposite direction of where I need to go. I stand up and for a moment I’m frozen in place. I don’t know this young girl, but I feel a need to protect her. I’m not a good guy and certainly not a hero, but there are much worse men out there than me and it’s not safe for her.
I debate for only half a second before I’m walking in the direction she went. I take long strides and in a few moments I can see her ahead. She’s not walking very quickly like she should be this time of night and I try to keep my distance, but she turns around and sees me.
There’s a moment of panic in her eyes followed closely by relief.
“Hey,” I say as I hold my hand up and try to keep some space between us. “Let me walk you to your car.”
“I’m glad it was you,” she says and looks down at the ground. “I got scared for a second.”
If she only knew who I really am. I wish I could see all of her face and she wasn’t wrapped up in all those layers of material. I want to see all of her hair and her mouth and everything beyond that. I’m ashamed at my thoughts and try to control them as I walk in step beside her.
“Are you alone?” I ask, and when she nods I want to curse. Why is she being so unsafe? “You shouldn’t have come on your own.”
It sounds like I’m scolding her, but I can’t help it.
“I know. I had dinner and then I smelled the churros and I got excited.” She shrugs like this is the only acceptable answer.
“Well, you should be more careful.” I look around when we get to a nearby garage. “Where did you park?”
“Over there,” she says and points to a dark corner of the lot.
I curse under my breath as I step closer to her and we walk over to it. It would be all too easy for someone to pick her off and take her back to this very spot. When we get to her car I look around and don’t see any lights or cameras. She opens her bag and stands there digging for her keys for what feels like forever. Does she not know anything about being safe? How has she not gotten herself killed yet?
“Can I give you a ride?” she asks, looking up at me.
“You shouldn't offer rides to strangers,” I scold again, and her gaze drops to the ground. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I say, and I feel like I kicked a puppy. “I just mean that you should be more careful.”