"How come your dad is white and you are not?" a voice asked.

She didn't have to look behind her to know that he was there, probably leaning against the counter or a shelve to watch her do her job. "That's called adoption," she said, as she stacked the soda cans.

He didn't say anything. Maybe he didn't expect the answer, maybe he didn't want to hurt her feelings, even though that didn't feel like him. He usually blurted out anything that came to mind.

She looked up. "What?" she asked. "No witty comment? No smart answer?"

"Hmm..." he hummed. "I don't think there is a good comment. So, no."

She didn't expect it, but she couldn't help but smile. He had grown on her. Crap, was she really like that? A cliché in a romance story? He was the badboy and she was the "innocent girl" that would fall for a type like him. She should hate it and yet she didn't. "Are you here to steal again?" she asked. "What's it gonna be this time? Painkillers? Booze? Chips?"

"Your heart."

An electric shock went through her body. Her hands started to sweat and she knew she was blushing. She got to her feet and rolled her eyes, trying to suppress her feelings. "Not funny," she said.

"I see you smiling." He followed her to the storage room door and waited for her.

"I'm not smiling." With a trolley in her hand she walked into the aisle with the cooled drinks. He walked beside her and watched her work. "Still, the corners of your mouth are up. Most people call that smiling. You should try it more often. I think it'll look great on you."

She turned her face, smiled with her mouth, but not with her eyes, and kept on working.

"See? It's not that hard." Then he stood behind her, reached for a can of energy drink. His body almost touched hers. Only a couple of inches were between them, but they didn't touch.

She could smell his deodorant. She couldn't quite place what she smelled, but she liked it. "You're in my personal space," she said, as she tried to empty out the cheap beer and put the new ones in.

He smirked, but didn't say anything. With a few big steps, he walked over to the register and hit the little bell that stood on the counter, for the customers to hit when she wasn't behind the counter.

Aliyah rolled her eyes and walked over to the counter. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. I like it when you come to me."

He could have just called for her or say to her that he wanted to pay, but instead he chose the obnoxious way to do it. Again, she rolled her eyes, scanned the can and said: "Ten dollars."

"I only have eight," he said, reaching in his pocket.

She shrugged. "It's ten dollars."

"Can't you give me a discount?"

She shook her head. "Either you give me ten bucks or you get something else."

He sighed dramatically, put the energy drink back and walked between aisle. His hands touched the products as he walked past them. Then his fingers grabbed a small energy bar, that he shoved in his sleeve. "What about this chocolate bar?" he asked, holding up a chocolate bar.

"If you get eight of those, you pay eight dollars. Please hurry. I have six more boxes to unpack."

The moment he heard that, he walked slower, grabbed a box of tea and a bag of chips. He placed them on the counter and looked at her with his big dark eyes.

"Seven fifty," Aliyah said.

Blake placed eight dollars on the counter and said: "Keep the change." Then he took his items and walked out of the store.

She watched him. Would he have stolen again? No, she wouldn't believe it. He said he didn't steal, so he didn't. She didn't know him that well, but still, she believed it wasn't like him to steal. Right?