“Hey, you okay?” he asked, moving closer to the guy.
He had dark hair and pretty eyes filled with tears, and he had to be Hispanic. Maybe another worker he hadn’t met yet?
When the guy flushed deep red, as if ashamed of being caught in the situation he was in, Izzy decided he had a few minutes to spare.
“I’m Izzy, I just started at the greenhouses.”
The guy closed his eyes and Izzy thought he had spectacularly long eyelashes. It took him a moment to understand that the guy was doing the counting thing.
“Shit, a panic attack?” he asked, and the blush that had been fading came back. “I get them too sometimes. I smoke weed. Helps a lot.”
The guy’s eyes suddenly opened and his gaze snapped to Izzy’s. There was something he couldn’t quite read in those big brown eyes, and Izzy felt oddly…if not judged, then at least…fuck, he didn’t even know.