20
FINLEY
Trent showed up twenty minutes before I closed my store. He was quiet. I wanted to ask what he did all afternoon, but I didn’t want to seem like I was prying.
“Did you eat dinner?” I asked as I locked up.
“I did. But we can grab something on the way to the estate if you want. Or I can cook when we get there.”
He didn’t look at me as we started walking down the sidewalk. We were heading toward my apartment, and I assumed toward his vehicle, but he wasn’t really there.
“Maybe I should just go home,” I said.
“What? Why?”
I shrugged. “You seem like you’re distracted. Like something is on your mind. If you have things to do, I can go home.”
“I came here to see you.”
“And you’re acting like you want to be anywhere but here.”
“That’s not true,” he snapped.
I took a step back
