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god I didn’t have time to say I wanted to have sex with him.

Chapter 8
     
     
     
    The metal stairs that wind down and around the office tower make an echoing clashing sound with every step I take. I barrel down the stairs two at a home, holding on to the railing because although I want to get out of here as soon as possible, I definitely don’t need to fall face first down two flights of stairs. I’m humiliated enough at having my boyfriend ditch me to spend an hour with another girl—I don’t need a broken nose and black eye added to this nightmare.
    When I arrive safely on the ground, I head straight toward the bleachers, not because I want to go sit with whatever-her-name-was, but because I have no idea where I’m going. To my left is the dirt bike track which is marked off with a fence of multi-colored plastic triangle flags. To my right is a whole bunch of nothing exciting. Trucks, motorhomes, even some camping tents. Parked dirt bikes and people lounging around in lawn chairs. It’s a massive field of parking lot and camping sites and none of that appeals to me. So, with nowhere else to go, I head to the bleachers.
    When I’m halfway there, the delicious smell of kettle corn fills the air and makes my stomach grumble. I haven’t eaten in a while, and damn, that smells amazing. I look around and find a tiny box truck parked behind the bleachers, painted a bubble gum pink. The concession stand. My cold, angered heart softens a tiny bit. If gallons of sugar and salty snacks can’t make me feel better, nothing can.
    I wait in line behind a mother and her toddler-aged children who can’t decide which flavor snow cone to order. I hadn’t realized I was hungry back in Jace’s office, but now as I wait for what feels like a thousand years, my stomach cramps up in hunger pains that threaten to make me drop dead on the spot. Plus the smells coming from the food truck aren’t helping one bit.
    When the kids decide on cherry snow cones and the mother orders “just a water because I’m watching my weight,” they finally freaking leave so that I can order.
    “Hey there lady,” the man behind the tiny ordering window says. He wears a disposable paper chef’s hat that makes him look like a cartoon character but I recognize him from earlier this morning. He’s the one who wanted to sell signed posters of Jace.
    “Hi,” I say, feeling like he thinks we’re friends when I don’t even know him.
    “What can I get for you?” he asks.
    “Kettle corn,” I say without bothering to look at the menu. I know he has it in there because I can smell it. “And a Coke.” I glance at the hand-painted menu to my right and gaze over the selections. “Um…and a pickle, please.”
    He laughs and shakes his head. “Can’t say anyone’s ever ordered kettle corn and pickles together. That’ll be six-fifty.”
    “Thanks,” I mumble as blood rushes to my cheeks. I hope that wasn’t some kind of pregnant joke. Because I am so not pregnant. I reach into my back pocket and as my fingers glide over nothing but denim material, a lump forms in my throat. Shit. I don’t have any money. My purse is in Jace’s apartment and Jace isn’t here to bail me out.
    Now the blood really rushes to my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I say as quietly as possible since I know there are people in line behind me. Not wanting to admit that I’m broke, I lean forward and mumble, “I…uh, left my wallet back in the car. I’ll come back.”
    The strong scent of men’s body wash fills my lungs as someone steps in front of me, slapping a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “Nachos and Redbull, please.” The blond shirtless guy turns toward me and winks. He winks at me. “Plus whatever she ordered.”
    “You don’t have to do that,” I say quickly but he shakes his head.
    “It’s no problem. You clearly forgot your purse or something, right? Plus I haven’t done anything nice in a while so I figure I’m overdue.” He smiles this