Charles didn’t know what to do. He wanted to turn and leave, but Becca saw him so he knew he couldn’t do that.

Besides, the other guy left, so that was good.

Right?

Charles didn’t have any claim over Becca. He knew that logically, but he still felt territorial toward her. She was his best friend’s little sister. A friend he promised he’d always look out for her. A random guy kissing her on the street wasn’t a good thing. He needed to find out if the guy was a threat. That’s what he told himself as he forced his feet to move toward the diner.

Inside the scent of greasy food assaulted him. His stomach flipped, anxiety churning within him. His relationship with Becca was tumultuous at best, and he didn’t want to screw it up. But he had to know who she was kissing and why she talked to the guy instead of punching him.

“You can’t come in here,” a deep voice said from right next to Charles. He looked up to find a menacing overweight man wearing a white apron over black shorts and a white t-shirt. Charles instinctively took a step back, worried the guy might actually hit him with the spatula in his hand.

“Why not?” Charles asked, genuinely confused.

The guy grinned an evil, threatening grin, as though he was both happy and surprised Charles questioned him. “Because yesterday you made one of my girls cry. She’s in the back right now putting up her stuff, and I’m not going to have you ruin another day for her. So you need to leave before I toss you out of here.”

Charles smiled. A misunderstanding. He could clear it up and everything would be fine. “Oh, that’s all done. Bex and I talked last night. She knows why I’m here. She told me to come back. Said she’d be working this morning. I’m a friend of her brother’s.”

The man crossed two arms the size of small trees over a chest that could have rivaled a redwood. He glared down at Charles and made him squirm. “Now I know you’re lying. Becca doesn’t have any siblings. She told me that her first day here.”

Charles’s heart sunk. She considered herself an only child. And it was his fault she was. “I’m sorry,” Charles said, defeated. “I’ll go.”