“I don’t know. He thought I ripped you off. He’s probably home by now.”

With her hands on her hips, she narrows her eyes. “I have half a mind to go set him straight. You are my best employee,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “You go on home. You’re done here for the night.”

“You’re sure you don’t want me to stay and finish these dishes for you?”

“Positive.”

I dry my hands on my apron and lean down to give Betty a hug. I’ll never forget what she did for me tonight. How she’s made my life a little bit easier without even thinking twice about it. I’ve been let down so many times, it makes moments like these that much more meaningful.

Punching my time card in the machine that dates back to the stone age, I stare at my reflection in the mirror that’s been hanging in the hallway just as long. The florescent lighting gives my normally dark hair an auburn glow. A few strands escaped my ponytail, and I have a noticeable stain on the front of my polo from some ketchup. Who knows what Rhett ever saw in me in the first place—I’m a mess.

Even I know it’s too late and way too dark to be walking the entire way home all alone, so I do the only thing I can think of—I find Carson’s name in my list of contacts. The pang of disappointment that hits me, is surprising. I didn’t realize how much I was looking forward to spending a little extra time with Rhett.

“What are you doing?”

My body jerks from the unexpected voice, and my phone falls to the dirty floor of the vestibule, spinning in a circle until it stops next to Rhett’s foot. He leans down to pick it up and hand it back to me, but not before taking a look at the screen. “Why are you calling Carson?”

“I thought you left.”

His cocks his head to the side, appearing genuinely confused. “Why would I leave? I’m taking you home.”

“I figured after you accused me of being a thief, you took off.”

“Kinsley, I’m sorry. It was a dick thing to say. If I could take it back, I would.”

“You can’t, but thank you for apologizing.”

He moves closer to where I’m standing, bending to look me in the eye. “Fair warning, there’s a chance I’m going to do a lot of other stupid shit—even if I don’t intend to.”

“I can’t wait,” I joke. But this time my smile peers though my earlier anger. He may have jumped to conclusions that weren’t fair, but I can see he’s sorry and that he knows he messed up.

“Now that we got that out of the way, can I take you home?”

“Yes, I’m tired. This day’s had more drama than I’m used to.”

“Come on.” We walk side by side down the stairs and into the almost deserted parking lot. His hand brushes mine, but instead of adding some distance between us, he clasps my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. I stare at our joined hands because even something as simple as holding hands is a first for me.

“Is this okay?” he questions, obviously worried he overstepped a boundary.

I nod my head, afraid of what I’ll see when I look at him—so I don’t. “Yes,” I whisper.

He points to his truck with his free hand. “I’m over there.”

Rumor has it, the brand new Ford F-150 was a gift from his grandparents. Some kids get graduation gifts, while Rhett gets one for simply starting a new school year.

“You can ask. Everyone else has.”

I scrunch my nose up, confused about what I’m supposed to be asking. “About?”

“The truck. It’s been the topic of conversation at practice the entire week.”

“It’s really nice.”

“I know, but I didn’t ask for it,” he insists. I’m not sure why it’s so important for me to know that, but clearly he wants to discuss it before we get inside.

“Rhett, it doesn’t matter to me what you drive. Things don’t matter to me—probably because I don’t have many. So, I don’t care if your truck came from Peyton Manning or your family. It’s yours and it’s awesome. That’s all that matters.”

A smile breaks out over his previously worried face. “You know who Peyton Manning is?”

I chuckle, “That’s all you heard me say?”

“No, I heard every word you said, but it’s hot when you start tossing quarterbacks into the conversation.”

“Then you’ll be happy to know, I like sports. I know who Peyton is—you’d have to live in oblivion not to. He’s a fourteen time pro-bowler. That’s huge.”

Rhett’s eyes widen when I break out the statistics. He forgets I have an older brother who is also obsessed with football. With only one TV in the apartment, I had no choice but to watch a lot of football games. “Shit, Kinsley. I’m think I’m in love. I mean, I already knew I liked you, but damn. You just rocked my world.”

“You’re crazy.”

“What’s crazy about that?”

“All of it.” I take the key fob out of his hands to unlock the doors. When I reach for the handle, he finally snaps out of the daze I put him in.

“I got it. Let me help you get in, shorty.”

Before I can climb in without his help, his hands are around my waist, lifting me effortlessly into the passenger seat. “I could have handled it.”

“You could have.”

“But?”

“But, I’m not about to pass up a reason to touch you,” he says, as he shuts my door, and walks around the front of the truck with a satisfied smirk on his face.

It’s adorable—he’s adorable. No, who am I kidding? He’s hot, and for reasons I’ll never understand, he’s interested in me.

“You can put whatever you want on the radio.”

“I’m okay with this. I like country music.” Plus, I have no idea how to work all the buttons on the radio. I drive an older car that doesn’t have satellite radio or a built in navigation system.

“Country music and sports. You’re two for two.”

“Does that mean I’m a keeper?”

“Definitely,” he says, in complete seriousness—all the playfulness from before now gone from his voice.

I pull my hair out of the ponytail I wear it in for work, and Rhett glances at me out of the corner of his eye, as I’m massaging my scalp.

“Headache?”

“A little. I think I’m mostly tired. I worked a double last night.”

“I give you credit. I worked over the summer, before football started. I don’t know how you go to school all day and then work all night.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“And that’s why driving this truck sucks.”

“What do you mean?”

“My parents want me to have it, and my grandparents have this insane desire to spoil me.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I sound so ungrateful, but I don’t need this thing. I’d rather someone have it that needs it, but they don’t see it that way. They want me to have everything, which I appreciate, but it makes it harder to blend in when they’re waving their money around.”

“I get what you’re saying, but they’re your family.”

“I’m sorry. Here I am pissed off at my family.”

I cut him off before he can say anything else. “And I don’t have one.”

He nods his head. “Yeah, dick move number two. I told you there’d be many.”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had a lot of time to try to make sense of it. I hate to tell you though, you couldn’t blend in if you tried. Three quarters of this town comes out to see you play every Friday night. You’re even on the news.”

“That I can’t help.”

“Just like I can’t help my situation, either. We are who we are whether we like it or not.”

“You’re saying I’m supposed to look the part? Be who everyone else expects me to be, or thinks I already am?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Can I ask why it even matters to you? Any other guy on the team would kill to be in your position—to have all that attention. All those girls begging to be his.”

“First off, only one girl matters to me.” He glances at me. “Secondly, it matters because I want a real shot with you, and I don’t want rumors or expectations to screw up your opinion of me before you have a chance to get to know me. I guess I want you to see me, and not a position on the football field like everyone else.”