Othello Station Read Online Free Page A

rack. She pushes a few more hangers to the side and removes her earbuds when she spots me staring.
    “Hi…” She looks at me in question.
    “Uh, hey.”
    “Do you typically follow hotel receptionists around in the middle of the night?”
    “Do hotel receptionists typically shop in thrift stores at midnight?”
    “Well, you’re jogging at midnight.” She gestures to my clothes.
    “Can’t sleep. That’s different. This is just…weird.”
    “Yes,” she says, deadpan, “very weird.”
    “I mean you, shopping this late.”
    “It’s the only thrift shop in Belltown—maye in the whole city—oopen twenty-four hours. I love it.” She clears her throat and places a shirt back on the rack. “So, did you want the tip back or something?”
    “What? God, no. No—no.” Annnnddd here I go, stuttering. What the hell?
    She shoots the store clerk a look, who glances up from her magazine. She pops her gum and rolls her eyes. I’m at a loss for words. I have no clue why I followed this girl here. It must just be my dick giving me directions again.
    “I just saw you walk in here while out for a run and I was curious. About the shop, I mean.” I gulp. “It’s nice. And I’m gonna go now.” I turn on my heel, but she stops me.
    “It’s Grant, right?”
    “Yeah.”
    The store clerk’s eyes bounce between us. We both shift where we stand.
    “Do you wanna…help me shop, maybe?”
    My brows shoot up. “Shop? No. No I’d…” I’d like to fuck you. Into next week. What do I say to this girl? I’d like to tell her the truth. Maybe if Wednesday Adams wasn’t watching the show. “Sure, why not.” I pretend to cough and veer around the clothing rack toward her, feeling Wednesday’s eyes on me the whole time. “So, uh…what are you looking for?”
    “Cheap clothes.” She smiles up at me,  but it’s a different smile this time. It’s not shy or nervous, just warm and friendly. Inviting. “To spend my flashy tip money on.”
    “That’s a little vague.”
    Now she’s shy. “Well, I’m not well versed in fashion vocabulary, sorry. She eyes me up and down. “Maybe you know more about this sort of thing than I do. You dress well. I just see something I like and snatch it up.”
    My gaze drops down her body and her cheeks go crimson. I flatter her, letting myself linger on her hips and then her lips for a moment. I need to redeem myself, here. If I want to nail her, earning the titles Creepy Stalker and Massive Dickhead isn’t the way to go. “You’ve got a great body. You’ll look good in anything you choose.” I toss in a little smirk to sweeten the compliment. She takes the bait and lights up, averting her gaze.
    “Wow. You’ve done this before, I see.”
    “I have.”
    “What happened to your hot date tonight?”
    “Yeah. That didn’t happen.”
    “Ah. It suddenly makes sense.”
    “Does it?” I’d love for her to explain it to me. Because I sure as hell don’t know what I’m doing here, in this musty smelling thrift shop in the middle of the night.
    “Don’t you think picking a girl up in one of the bars would be a lot easier than picking one up in a thrift store?” She rolls her shoulder with an awkward, playful grin. “I get the impression you have plenty of experience with that approach.”
    My eyes narrow.
    “Okay,” she mumbles, and the shade of crimson on her cheeks turns fire-engine red. “That was my attempt at a joke. And flirting. Both of which, I’m obviously really bad at.”
    Another smirk teases my lips. It’s almost a complete smile, with teeth and all. Almost. “Yeah. That was pretty bad. But endearing. So, there’s that.”
    She lifts a hand and fidgets with the top of a hanger. She’s quiet for a moment. Her voice turns earnest. “Why are you here?”
    My gaze drifts to the store clerk. She’s still enjoying the show, of course. At this point, though, I just don’t care. “Honestly?” She bites her lip. My mouth opens, but no words come out. I still