Chapter 14 #2
Amber: Why does everyone say that? I don’t hold grudges, I just learn my lesson the first time
Riley: So did you learn it with Matt?
Amber: With him, it was me with the problem. It’s clearly been me this entire time, besides the time he declared war because I was using his friend to get to him. See, I’m the problem. I don’t think he ever was
Riley: So, now you don’t have a problem anymore because you guys are friends?
Amber: We made a truce tonight, and then it got awkward. We don’t know how to be friends.
Riley: Maybe you can do the same things you guys did when you hated each other, but now do that as friends.
Riley: Didn’t you guys play pranks on each other?
Amber: He still has the sticker on his truck. The one that says honk if you love dick. He said all the freshmen honk their horns at him (laughing emoji, laughing emoji, laughing emoji)
Amber: He squirted mustard on me today
Riley: Omg. It sounds like he’s flirting with you
Amber: I don’t know. I feel like if we’re friends or enemies, he would be squirting me with the damn mustard either way.
Riley: Maybe you guys need to bone it out
Amber: Definitely not doing that
Amber: Did you finish your homework?
Riley: I’m too invested in you and Matt
Amber: There is no me and Matt
Riley: Yet
Being a paralegal for a popular divorce lawyer is ultra-fun, but not when I get the insider scoop of people’s personal lives.
Uh, hem…Matt’s mom. I haven’t needed to meet with her, other than a few emails and phone calls, thank God.
Mr. Robinson seems to have a handle on the communication with this one.
I feel embarrassed that I know what’s going on with Matt’s mom, and I often wonder if he’s handling it okay.
Of course, I would never say anything, but my mind wanders to him when I’m at the office now.
The office life doesn’t change much. It keeps me busy for my own good.
I love always having something to do, meeting deadlines, moving on to the next thing, and the workflow never-ending.
I thrive in this environment. But I have to admit, the Grind Stone is now my favorite job.
Shh, don’t tell anyone that I look forward to it.
Now that I’m friends with Matthew, I simply can’t wait to see how this pans out.
I plan to use Riley’s advice: continue to play pranks on him… even as a friend.
When I walk through the front door of the Grind Stone, to my surprise, Matt is already there in an apron and a hat. The hat is a new edition. His hair is sticking out of the sides of it, and he smiles at me as I walk around the counter.
When I clock in, he puts a hat on my head and says, “These just came in.”
He adjusts it on my head as I observe his concentrated face. If being his friend means he’s this friendly, I think I might have to take it back.
“Is this what being your friend is like?” I ask, standing tall but still too short for him. My neck feels cranked as I look up at him.
He pushes the bill of my hat to the side and laughs. I take off the hat and fix my hair. I put it back on and pull out the strands around my face.
“I haven’t seen or heard from Jen in a while. Have you seen her lately?”
He walks to the counter and says, “Yeah, she’s coming to the party this weekend. Are you?”
I shrug, wondering how he knows this. Is he talking to her? “I wasn’t invited.”
“Well, that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m inviting you.”
I smile at the customer who appears ready to order.
I ignore Matt to greet the customer and get to work.
We get six customers in a row, some with multiple sandwich orders, and work side by side until all the orders are done.
Luckily, no one else came in during that time.
Eventually, more customers flow in, so we don’t have a moment to chat.
But I can’t ignore the amount of times we glance at each other.
It’s brief eye contact to make sure each other are doing okay.
I have to stop looking his way, so I stare up at the menu board, wondering if we should dust it. Yeah, I’ll have to do that later.
I adjust my hat. “To answer your question from earlier, I probably won’t come. It’s not really my scene.”
“But you came when Harv invited you,” he counters.
I look down and grin. “That was because I was on a mission to get back at you.”
He licks his lips, leaning on the counter. “Customer.”
I greet the customers as they walk through the door. Once their order is paid for and made, Matt turns to me.
“So, you admit that I was right?” he asks.
“Another customer.”
He claps. “Welcome to the Grind Stone.”
I take their order and then help Matt with the multiple sandwiches.
“What’s your scene then?” he asks, and I smile because another customer walks in. “We’re busy today, aren’t we? You’re not off the hook…” He turns and smiles. “Welcome to the Grind Stone.”
Chapter 14
Amber is smiling at me like she’s enjoying this way too much. She thinks she’s getting away without answering, scot-free, but I’m not letting it slide. Nobody turns down a party invite from Matthew Pearson. I listen as the customer orders their sandwich and then I start making it.
From what I’ve seen lately, Amber has been enjoying herself.
Her eyes are less tense, and her lips aren’t as perched.
Her wall is still up, but it’s going to crack and crumble someday soon, and the party is a perfect place.
Not that I need her drunk to see that I’m not all bad, but it would help my case.
But I’m not even sure what the point of inviting her is.
Besides it being a challenge. I knew she would decline.
She wanted a war, sure. But I knew I was going to win.
She’s okay with being friends? Sure, but come to a party and hang out to confirm it.
I’m not wrong here, am I? Testing her limits is my favorite hobby.
Maybe I care a little too much about pushing her buttons.
She walks up to me, ignoring the order I’m making and says, “I’m not hanging out with you outside of these walls.”
I look over my shoulder at her, adding in lettuce. “Why the hell not?”
She scowls, “I don’t think you have any idea how busy I am.”
“Ah.” I click my tongue, adding salt and pepper to the sandwich now. “I forgot you’re not a college girl.”
“Right, so my responsibilities are different from yours. I don’t have the pleasure of partying every weekend.”
I finish wrapping up the sandwich, so I hand it to her. Except, I don’t let go. Our fingers are barely touching, but I can feel the heat of hers less than an inch away.
I whisper, “Then come to my game.”
She shakes her head. “What? I just told you––”
“You just said you don’t have the pleasure of partying every weekend, but surely you have time for a hockey game?”
She steals the sandwich from my hand. “I don’t.”
After she calls out the customer’s name, another one comes in. We’re busy with work, ignoring each other now.
When it’s close to closing, I say, “So, if you’re little miss busy then where did you find the time for Harvey’s invitations?”
Ooh, she doesn’t like that. Her brows furrow and that perched lip is back.
“Don’t be mad I’m calling you out,” I joke, smiling because I’m enjoying this.
“I’m not mad. It’s just funny.”
“Yeah, funny. It’s whatever, Amby. I’ll just tell Jen you refused.”
“Why are you talking to Jen?” she asks, a little overprotective tone in her voice.
“None of your business.” I smile, and she hates it. Her face drops, and her brows lift.
She shakes her head. “I didn’t know Jen was your type.”
“I don’t have a type.”
“Yeah, right. I’m sure you do. Everybody has a type.”
I shake my head. “Stop changing the subject, Amber. What are you scared of?”
She smiles now, maybe blushing. She says, “I know what you’re doing.”
“Yeah?” I ask, starting to get annoyed. “What is that?”
“Playing our game.” She grabs the ranch dressing and pours a drop on her finger. And then she walks up to me. “If you want to play, we can play.” She wipes the ranch dressing on my cheek, and I stare at her, my chest buzzing with amusement.
When she walks away to clean her finger with a napkin, she turns to me, “You have a little something there, Pearson.”
I wipe my cheek with my shoulder. It’s more than I thought, so I steal the napkin from her hand and use it to wipe my face. Her amber eyes are glowing as she looks up at me. Ooh, she loves a challenge.
“For the sake of a good time, the offer is still on the table. So, if you change your mind––”
“You’re a piece of work.” She works her bottom lip between her teeth.
I chuckle. Maybe I am. Or maybe I like the games we play. There’s never a dull moment when she’s around.
I glide across the ice, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline that comes with pushing myself past practice hours. Coach waves goodbye, pointing at us with a mix of pride and exasperation. Hey, it feels damn good to push our limits.
Crew’s bent over, catching his breath as he examines his stick. “I've been meaning to ask you, Matt. How's working at the Grind Stone?”
I slide the puck over to him lazily, like we're playing the world's most casual game of hockey. He stops it with his skate, looking up at me expectantly.
“It's good,” I say, keeping my voice neutral.
“Do you ever work with that cute Amber chick? The one that paid those girls to be all over you.”
I can't help but laugh at the memory. “Yep. I only work with her.”
“Oh, how's that going?” Crew asks, his eyes lighting up with mischief.
I shrug, trying to be nonchalant. “Good.”
Harvey skates by, joining the conversation. “Are you starting drama in the workplace?”
Crew cackles, nearly losing his balance. “Yeah. I can imagine the shit you're doing to her there.”
“Actually,” I say, pausing for dramatic effect. “It’s quite the opposite.”
Harvey scoffs, coming to a stop beside me. “What?”
“Did I not tell you? She apologized…for everything. So, you know, after that happened, I’m trying to figure out a good time to quit.”