The Man Who Waited vs. The Man Who Wasted novel Chapter 395

Kyle answered honestly. "Back in Austin, I was just a street punk, scamming people to survive. The boss pulled me out of that life and got me into The Harmony House."

Jocelyn's interest piqued.

"The Harmony House?"

"Yeah. It's a rehabilitation center the boss founded. It takes in homeless and at-risk youth. Once you're in, they have counselors who help you get your life on track. They provide food, shelter, and teach you actual trade skills."

"When you're ready to stand on your own two feet, you can leave whenever you want. You don't owe them a dime."

"I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, so I struggled with the trade classes. The boss suggested I train in martial arts and security. Turns out, I had a knack for it. I picked it up pretty fast."

"When it was time to leave, I couldn't bring myself to walk away from The Harmony House or the boss. So, he let me stay on as his security."

Jocelyn noticed a discrepancy in his story.

"If that's true, why haven't I ever seen you around before?"

"I just got into town. I was stationed in Austin. When the boss relocated here, The Harmony House was short-staffed, so he left me behind to help out."

"He called me up recently, said he had an important job for me here, and told me to catch the next flight. So here I am."

She was stunned.

"Wait. You mean he flew you out here specifically just to protect me?"

"I'd say so, yeah."

For a fleeting second, her heart skipped a completely erratic beat.

The car pulled up to the curb outside the bakery.

"We're here, Miss Evans."

Before getting out, she turned to him.

"Do you want anything from the bakery? I can grab you a slice of cake."

"No thanks," Kyle replied. "Just like the boss, I'm not a big fan of sweets."

She froze.

"He doesn't like sweets?"

"No. Honestly, the boss isn't a fan of any kind of pastry or heavy carbs."

His casual remark left Jocelyn standing in the middle of the bakery, completely spaced out.

He didn't like carbs?

Then why had she gone out of her way to invite him over for Maria's homemade pasta?

And why had he eaten more than half a plate of the traditional cakes she had made from scratch?

Every time they ate together, he always seemed to enjoy it so much. She genuinely thought he liked that kind of food.

If he hated it, why didn't he just say something?

"Miss?"

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