“Crap. He’s coming over!” hissed Jack.
“Hey, Jack.” Wayne paused. “Pad—’’
Pad nodded, as Jack said, “Hey. What’s up?”
“Not much. Shopping for something.” Pad stared at Wayne who, while talking to Jack, focused on Pad. His blue eyes bore on Pad, and his smile started sheepishly but the eyes warmed, the corners of his mouth turned up, then spread into a welcoming grin.
Holy shit. Need to resist that smile
“A book?” asked Jack.
“Yeah. Going to Utah in a couple days for Thanksgiving and planned to,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “come out to my parents.”
Pad glanced at the line that moved next to him. He stood three people away now from being cashed out when he realized that his silence caused some awkwardness.
“That sounds great, Wayne.” Pad said.
I was supposed to go to Utah with him
“What book are you buying?” asked Wayne.
“It’s Obama’s book, ‘Dreams from My Father,’” said Pad. “My aunt’s a big fan, went to a couple of his rallies so I thought she’d like it.”