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I stared at him.
“Or tea?” When I said nothing, he rolled his eyes. “I’m officially off the clock. No reshoots today, and this business here is definitely over. I think we’ve earned a little something.”
My arms felt like rubber, but they supported my weight as I lifted myself back into my chair and fixed my shoes on the footrests. The weight of everyone’s stare was heavy and almost alien in a way I wasn’t expecting.
It felt a little too similar to the first time I used my chair outside of the hospital. I’d been at home with my parents and my brother, but the way they watched me like I was some sort of sideshow had left tiny scars under my skin.
I didn’t like the reminder.
“Lead the way,” I finally said, and Aleric gave a stern nod before turning on his heel and heading for the door. I followed with two hard pushes on my wheels and felt a punch of relief when no one called us back.
That might have been a bad sign—frankly, I had no idea—but Aleric was entirely unbothered, so I decided to take a page out of his book and give up all my fucks for the afternoon.
“So.” Aleric was sitting on the pavement, his back to his tire, a cigarette pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He hadn’t lit it, but he was flicking it every so often, and his arm twitched like he was physically stopping himself from putting it in his mouth.
We’d been in the parking garage for almost twenty minutes now, and that was the first time either one of us had spoken.
“Was this your plan?” I asked.
He raised a brow and smiled a little, showing off his dimpled cheeks. “Uh, no. I didn’t actually have a plan. I mean, if you want tea?—”
“Not a fan.”
“Or coffee,” he said, his little smile turning into a smirk.
I scoffed and grabbed my wheels, rolling back and forth a few inches. I was feeling restless and unsure, and technically, I was hiding from Cillian, which I was going to hear about later. “Thank you for that back there.”
Aleric stared at me, eyes heavy-lidded. “I didn’t really do anything.”
“You did, and you know it. That was—ah. Unexpected.”
“They’re being dicks. The moment you give them an inch, they’re going to take a mile.” He finally put the cigarette in hismouth and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. I grimaced, and he sighed, dropping it back into his palm and tucking it into his little silver case.
“You don’t actually have to stop on my account.”
He shrugged. “I really do need to quit. I can probably find something I can carry around in here.”
“Why is it so important that you have that case with you?”
He stared down at it, almost like he was surprised to see it. “It was a gift.” His mouth softened into something like a smile. “The only adult I ever worked with who didn’t hurt me. He gave me a gift and taught me how to be strong.”
“You shouldn’t have needed to be strong.”
He said nothing, and I knew then it was probably the wrong thing to say, but he didn’t look angry. Just defeated, and I knew what that was like.
“Lollipops, maybe?”
His gaze shot up in surprise, and then he laughed. “Yeah, or maybe they still make bubble gum cigarettes. Those would fit.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, and it must have shown on my face because he leaned forward over his thighs and stared hard at me. “Why would anyone make fake cigarettes out of bubble gum? Those can’t be real.”
“You’ve never gotten candy from the ice cream truck, have you?”
“Ice cream…truck?”
“God, that’s so…that should be considered child abuse,” he said, pointing a finger at me. He jumped up with a grace that was so unexpected with his large body, then ruffled his hair and looked toward the exit sign. “How pissed will your guard be if we sneak out?”
“Very. But I can send him home.” Something in me was rumbling on the edge of excitement? Or maybe nerves? It was impossible to tell. But he was wearing a mischievous grin thatmade me want to throw myself into whatever chaos he was cooking up.