Page 47 of Just My Type of wrong guy

He looks at me, confused, narrowing his eyes.

“Is it another curse word?” he whispers, intrigued, and Thalia bursts into laughter.

“No, A.J., it’s just a type of cheese.” I point at the line of Catupiry on my pizza. “I think you still need a little more practice before you start composing in Portuguese…” I tease, and he gently kicks me under the table, but we’re on a break!

My jaw drops, and Thalia has no idea what’s going on.

“Not fair!” I shout in disbelief.

“It wasn’t,” he snaps back, still upset. “It’s like you telling me I can’t write a song with you because I don’t know the name of a type of cheese!”

“I don’t know what happened, but I’ll have to side with him on this one…” Thalia says, making me roll my eyes.

We explain to A.J. whyCatupiryis the best thing foreigners will never know, and after two slices of pizza, he agrees. We all know he agreed after the first bite, but we let him eat the two pieces in peace. He mentions that his favorite Brazilian pizza isbrigadeiro, and I feel a little sad that I forgot to order a sweet one, even if it was just banana with cinnamon, so he could try another wonder of the diplomatic incident with Italy that is Brazilian pizza.

We remember, on the third can of each of our drinks, to toast to the show, and eat at least two more slices of pizza before Thalia stretches and wishes us goodnight. I wish my friendwould stay, after all, this night only happened because of her. But I also know how tired she is, so I let her go.

As soon as Thalia leaves, A.J. jumps out of his seat and heads straight for the living room. I don’t even need to look to know he’s turning on the video game, and when we decide what to play, he even grabs the controller, confident, but we both know who’s going to win.

“If I could work with you on another song,” he says, his eyes glued to the screen, focused. “I’d want it to be all in Portuguese. Like, a hundred percent.”

“Why?” I grab the controller from his hand and lean back on the couch.

“I like the language, I feel like the vocabulary is vaster… Seeing you sing sparked this in me.”

“But do you want to work on one of my songs or compose with me?” I ask, since A.J. did most of the arrangements for my two upcoming releases.

“Compose with you.” He takes a deep breath. “It was good finding you. The guys are my family, the only ones who care, but I’ve always felt like the odd one out. With you, I can just be... me.”

“You’re an odd one out to me too, but I like you, so it’s fine.”

“I like knowing you like me.” A.J. challenges me, but I’m not fazed.

“I do. You always say I’m your favorite thing on this tour. But the truth is, with Guilherme, who was the closest person to me, suffering over Bia for half the tour and loving her from a distance the other half, I would’ve felt out of place without you. “I’m glad we fit together.”

“Aw, look how cute and sentimental she is today,” he teases, holding my hand.

“Now, seriously, no jokes. Why did you try to kiss me today?” I ask because we both know that was a very real moment.

“You’re beautiful, you’re my friend, I trust you, and I feel like being myself is never an issue,” A.J. sighs, shrugging before continuing, “If you were up for it, it’d happen.”

“So you’re not secretly in love with me or anything like that…” I whisper the question, and he gets close enough to make me feel uneasy.

“You’re captivating, but no…” he says, tapping his finger on the tip of my nose.

“Do I have your word?”

“Why do you want me to promise it? I am being honest.” A.J. has a pop diva moment, which I ignore, keeping my finger up, and he huffs. “You have my word, Alexandra,” he says, locking his massive pinky with mine.

“Good, the last thing I need right now is to be ‘the girl of the band guy.’” I roll my eyes and grab his controller again.

“You like me this way?”

“I’ve already said I married the music.”

“The way you said it, it sounds like the only thing keeping you from being with the guy from the band is the fact that I don’t feel anything for you.”

“Must’ve been my English.”

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