Page 69 of Golden Days

Levi

You’ll figure your shit out in time. But don’t dodge my calls.

Ezra

Fiiiiine

I tap my fingers against the steering wheel and glance at the clock. It’s six in the evening now, and Hazel and I are on the way to the training facility.

The car ride has been nothing but awkward silence and jolting touches as we both reach for the radio or the water bottles at the same time.

If she mumbles another “Sorry,” I will lose my goddamn mind. She’s been fiddling with her phone the whole ride—texting Rosie, I presume.

I close my eyes for a brief moment and sigh. What if she’s texting a guy? Her ex? What if she’s telling them about how I all but groped her in the kitchen this morning.

Clearing my throat, I attempt some lighthearted conversation. “So, how was work?”

Hazel looks at me from the corner of her eye and straightens up in the passenger seat. “It was fine. A little boring, but I got to practice a bit myself, so that was nice.” She placed the phone between her thighs and clasps her hands together in her lap.

“How come it was boring?” I ask, voice sounding like gravel in my throat. Stop checking out her damn thighs.

She’s wearing black leggings and tennis shoes, with a polo shirt that’s a little too tight on her. All it does is accentuate her ample chest, and I berate myself for checking her out once more. I can’t decide if this outfit is better or worse than seeing her in my sweatshirt. That day in the basement when we watched her favorite movie—bold choice to call it that, but whatever—I thought she looked fucking perfect. All soft features and curves, her sleeves too long because she was wearing my clothes.

“Because of all the shifts I needed to move around, I’m mostly assigned to the bar or the restaurant,” she says, looking over at me.

I turn my head and frown down at her. “Why did you need to move them?”

Her eyes widen and she backtracks. “Oh, I didn’t mean—sorry, I’m not trying to complain. I moved some shifts around so I could make it to the training facility every day. But the bar and restaurant are totally fine, and not boring at all. There’s actually quite a lot of drama in the dining room,” she chuckles.

But my hands tighten on the steering wheel and I bite my tongue. She’s getting screwed over by that Ben guy, I bet, for taking this opportunity. For working with me. She’s made mention of Ben threatening her before, and I shouldn’t have let it go then.

“I’ll talk to the managers and⁠—”

“No,” she exclaims, half turning in her seat. “Please don’t. I swear, everything is fine.”

I narrow my eyes at her pleading expression and the way her chest heaves with worry.

“Are you sure? Is Ben giving you any trouble?”

“Everything is fine, I swear,” she says again, smiling and nodding.

I don’t know if she’s trying to convince me or herself, but I drop it. I don’t want to upset her any more than I already have today.

The facility comes into view and we listen to the end of “Come and Get Your Love” as I put the car in park. “Hazel…” I say, shifting in my seat to look at her.

Her curly brown hair has a few lighter streaks from being in the sun the past couple weeks, and her freckles stand out on the bridge of her nose and cheekbones. Her plump lips part and—fuck, I’m staring again.

“Yes?” she asks, wrapping her fingers around the seatbelt.

“About this morning,” I say, finding the courage to look her in the eye.

Her pupils expand and I note the way her throat moves with a swallow. There’s a little beauty mark below her left ear that I haven’t noticed before.

“I’m so sorry for enabling Gus to be on the counter. I promise I’ll be more careful,” she says.

I blow a frustrated breath, shaking my head. “I’m not upset that you get along with my cat. He can be on the counter as long as he’s not being a menace. I wanted to apologize,” I say.

“For what?” Her plump lips turn down into the cutest frown.