Page 47 of When In Doubt

“You don’t remember?” He frowns, casting me a glance.

“Remember what?”

“He threw mud in your hair.” He almost growls it, eyes dark.

I whip around, turning in my seat. What is he talking about? “I don’t understand.”

“He had it coming.”

“You hit him because of me?”

He shrugs. “Nearly got kicked out of school. His mom wanted me expelled but mine threatened to go to the board.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I told you, he had it coming.” The look he gives me sears through me, filled with a heaviness I can’t quite parse. I blink and Oscar clears his throat. “Nobody deserves to have a kid like that making their life hell.”

Is that why Jamie’s mom moved him? Because of Oscar?

“You should eat that.” He changes the subject, nodding at the pastry I’ve been holding in midair. I numbly take a bite, though I don’t manage to look away from him. As I eat, I take in his outfit for the first time. He’s wearing a pale blue button-up tucked into brown slacks. He’s still got on the work boots I’ve never seen him without, but his hair’s combed back, and I think there might even be gel in it?

“Did you dress up?” I blurt out.

“What do you mean?”

“You just… I mean, you don’t normally look so…” I trail off, realizing that I’m being rude.

“So what?”

“You just look very nice?” I say it like it’s a question, my grip threatening to tear into the paper bag I’m still holding.

He snorts. “How do I usually look?”

“You’re just normally more…”

“Like a slob?”

“No!” Fucking hell. I’m getting ready to open the door and roll out of this vehicle. “No, you always look great! I just mean—you always—argh!” I cover my face with a hand, laughing in frustration. When I peek out from behind my fingers I see Oscar’s face, split into a wide grin. Hell, he’s handsome when he smiles.

“I know what you meant, honey, I’m just messing with you.”

My head whips to look at him, and I note his jaw is locked tight. Did he mean to say that?

“And you’re right,” he continues. “I might have dressed up a little.”

“What for?” I frown. “It’s pretty casual.”

“I didn’t want to make you look bad. You’re always so…”

“Overdressed?” I offer. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard this, but I love my wardrobe. I can finally wear what I want without someone else’s opinion, and I’ve been making the most of it.

“Not that,” he says firmly. “You’re always so put together. I didn’t wanna stand next to you looking like I just rolled in off a twenty-four-hour shift.”

“Oh, that’s…”

“I’m representing your business, the least I can do is tuck in my damn shirt.”

“Oh.” I look down at my hands, his words bouncing around my ears. “Well, thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”