Chapter 7
Yogurt is bullshit
July
Amelia
Iclose my eyes and tilt my chin up, letting the sunshine hit my face. When a shadow falls over me, I know without looking that it’s Alex.
“You’re going to get sunburnt. Again.” His voice sends tingles throughout my body.
Swallowing my mouthful of yogurt and granola parfait, I open my eyes just to roll them at him. “One time, Alex. I got sunburnt out here one time.” And now all the tables on the balcony have umbrellas.
He stands there, an eyebrow raised and a stern look on his face. I huff and scoot my chair over until I’m in the shade.
“Happy now?”
“Incredibly,” he deadpans, making me laugh. “Mind if I join you?”
“Am I correct in assuming that one of those is for me?” I point my spoon at the cups in the paper tray he’s holding.
“Lukewarm peppermint white mocha, even though it’s July and hot as hell.”
“Then yes, you can absolutely join me,” I tease with a smile.
“Yogurt again?” He settles into the chair across from me and unwraps the sandwich I ordered for him.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen me tear into a burger with extra bacon and a side of cheese fries.
Or half a pizza. I just happen to like yogurt, too, and have a bridesmaid dress to fit into soon.
” I take another bite to prove my point.
Inside, I’m drooling over that goddamned cheesesteak he’s got in front of him.
“Fucking perfect ————,” he mutters under his breath.
My nose crinkles as I try to figure out what he said, but my phone goes off, pulling my attention to it.
“Speaking of the wedding,” I bring it up to my ear before asking, “What’s up, Beans and Rice?”
“Mom’s trying to talk me into changing my flowers to roses.”
Rage fills my soul. “Why? What the hell? No. Nope. Your wedding is only a couple of weeks away now! Do not let that woman talk you into roses, Bean. She knows you don’t like them.”
She sighs. “I really don’t like them.”
“You don’t just dislike roses. You hate roses. You hate them with a passion. You hate them with every fiber of your being. You’ve hated them since your beauty pageant days. You extra hate them ever since that jackass Bobby gave you some to apologize for cheating on you right before prom.”
I see Alex crinkle his brow.
“God, he sucked,” Bean says with a sigh.
“Yes, he did suck. That’s why you smashed those roses over his stupid head and told him to fuck off. I was there. It was a highlight of my life. I replay it in my head when I’m having a bad day. So tell your mom ‘fuck no’ to the roses.”
Alex smirks behind his coffee cup.
“Okay.” Bean’s voice is unsteady.
“Do I need to call her up and tell her ‘fuck no’ for you? Because I will. That woman doesn’t scare me. Actually, it would be my pleasure to tell her to stick those roses where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Bean snorts. “Yeah, let’s give her more reason to hate you.”
“Meh, she’s always hated me, even without a reason. But I will call her on this one if you need me to. There will be no fucking roses at your wedding. Not a single one.”
“I’ll do it… I’m going to channel some of your fierceness.”
“Good. Call me later, okay? Let me know how it goes.” I’ll most likely have to call Tiffany anyway. She’s a pushy bitch and knows Bean will bend if she pressures her enough. But I won’t let her win this one.
“Okay. Love you, Min.”
“Love you, too.” I hang up and release a deep breath while shaking my head.
“Who the fuck tries to apologize for cheating using roses?” Alex asks.
“Dipshits. Assholes. Teenage boys.”
He gives me one of those grins that I feel no one else ever sees. He really should share them with the world. He’s handsome even when he frowns, but fuck, when he smiles and that dimple on his chin appears… He’s gorgeous.
“Your friend is lucky to have you.”
I shrug. “Her mom is a bully, and I’ve never put up with her bullshit. Which is probably why she’s always hated me. I tell her to stop living vicariously through her children at least three times a year.”
“She sounds like a wonderful mother.” His voice is thick with sarcasm. “My daughter has one of those. I was an idiot when I was younger.”
“As opposed to now?”
“Ha, ha, very funny. Make fun of the old guy.”
I look around. “I don’t see any old guys here, Alex. Though if you’re convinced you’re old, I should probably insist on calling you Mr. Delgado,” I tease.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Alright, but only on one condition. Well, two.”
“I’m listening.” He cocks one eyebrow and leans back in his chair.
“Number one, stop saying you’re old. You’re really not.”
“I’ll think about it. What’s the second condition?”
“You have to give me a couple bites of that sandwich because this yogurt and granola parfait is bullshit.”
He laughs loudly. Loud enough for the other employees outside to look our way with shocked expressions on their faces. I know they all still think of him as grumpy and cranky most of the time, but I hardly ever see that side of him.
He slides the sandwich around the table so it’s in front of me. There’s still about half of it left on the wrapper. “Eat as much as you want.”
I smirk because we both know I can eat the whole damn thing. I take a bite and moan, savoring not only the sandwich but also the fact that my mouth is touching where his mouth just was, and not even caring if that makes me a weirdo.
He shifts in his chair. “Better than the yogurt?”
“So much better than the yogurt,” I say before taking a second bite, making him laugh again.
I love those laughs. I love all his laughs. Those big, booming laughs can brighten even my worst days. Because of him, those bad days are few and far between. He’s my boss, with whom I’m hopelessly in love, but he’s also one of my best friends.
I love our relationship. I’m terrified of ruining it by trying to be more. But the urge to take the chance grows stronger every single day.