Chapter 2

Beeze's POV•

As usual, for the entire day, everything was a rush. My aunt removed me from serving duty so I simply sat at the cashier's table.

It was about 1:30 when I heard a familiar voice.

"Beeze!"

I gasp in surprise.

"Little Thomas," I yell happily and everyone looks at me.

I walk over to him and lift him up.

"How is my little boy today?"

"I'm good now that I'm with you." He bats his eyelashes and I let out a loud giggle.

"You are just the ladies man aren't you." I smile and his dad grins as he walks up to me. I still haven't been able to look him in the eye after the incident so I decided to gulp and place Thomas back onto the floor.

Walking back to the cashier's table I smile at him once again.

"What're you having?"

"Nuggets!"

"Ooo those are my favorite!" I wink and he grins.

"Eat with us then." Mr. Roman speaks up and I gape.

"I- well . . . I'm afraid I can't."

"Awww . . . Why pretty wady?" Thomas asks sadly.

"My aunt will have my head honestly." I sigh forgetting there was a kid around.

Thomas gasps and my eyes widen.

"She's gonna cut off your head?! Daddy! Daddy! Can you dial 911, I would tell you their number . . . But I forgot."

I giggle at the little boy shaking my head.

"It's just an expression Thomas, she's not gonna cut off my head."

"An expression?"

"Yup."

"Oh . . . Okay." He says pretending to understand.

"Hey! You're not the only one in the line! Move it dumbo!"

"Sorry guys, gotta keep the line moving." I put in their order and smile at my lovely little Thomas as he grins at me. They walk to their seat and I take the rest of the orders, smiling here and there and the customers.

But I could still feel his eyes on me.

#

Finally closing time and I can't feel my butt.

I climb off my chair and walk towards the door. About to close the door something caught my attention.

Two familiar lights blinked twice.

Totally oblivious I shake my head at this possibility. They left hours ago. I close the door when the lights kept blinking over and over.

And if that wasn't crazy enough, someone got out of the car and started walking towards me frightened, I lock the door one more and started for the stairs.

They grabbed my arms and I screamed. Covering my mouth they muttered 'Shhhh'

"It's me." The person whispered.

Gasping I slapped his hands away.

"Mr. Roman? What in the bloody world are you doing here?" I whisper yell and I can barely see his pearly white teeth glistening as he smiles at me because of the height difference. This man is a tree.

"I just came to say thank you. Not much people would be so . . . Open with my son because of my status. You treat him like he's normal and … that means a lot to him, to me."

"He is normal," I tell him sharply feeling defensive.

"Honestly Beeze, we both know what I mean." I sigh and shake my head.

"You're welcome. Is he in the car?"

"No, he's asleep at home."

"With his mother, I hope?" I gasp and his face hardens.

"His mother is . . . let's say . . . Non -existent."

"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss."

"She's not dead. I didn't get that lucky. She left Thomas and me when he was just a baby."

"Oh . . ." I murmur wondering why he was sharing such personal information with me. "You know you could tell me to shut my mouth anytime."

He chuckles.

"Don't worry, I won't need to." He smiles at me.

"Just in case. I'm used to being pushed around anyway." I joke but instead, his eyes turn darker and his lips turn tight. "Right. Totally not funny."

I clear my throat while sticking out my hands.

"Goodnight Mr. Roman."

He eyes my hand and lifts it to his pink, plump lips.

My breath hitches as he places warm kisses lingering a bit.

"Goodnight Aurora."

I gasp.

"Thomas told you?!"

"Yup." He chuckles walking off.

Traitor.

#

Laying in bed I honestly couldn't sleep. All I could think was how his voice sounded when he laughed and how his mouth moved as he talked.

His eyes crinkled a little too.

And when he kissed my hand . . .

Gosh, what is this strange feeling, that I'm feeling, is it simply silly feelings, or is there a dreadful meaning behind these feelings?

Although, I'm not entirely sure that I mind these. . . Feelings.