Page 66 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“I’m just going for dinner. And maybe a walk around Times Square. I think Google’s going to be enough.” She shrugs with a wink. “Hey, boys.” She tilts her neck to the right, giving them a little wave.

“Hey, Alex,” they reply in unison, waving their hands while holding in their laughter.

And I may kill them.

“Well, I’ll leave you with the boys now. See you tomorrow.” Alexandra rises on her toes – even in heels – and kisses me on the cheek. I feel the soft brush of her lips, and without thinking, my hands land on her waist. I breathe in the sweet, familiar scent on her neck — and just like that, she pulls away.

I step back, unsure of what to do with the space she just created between us.

“You smell nice,” I say, trying to pull myself together.

“I always smell nice, Antony. I’ll see you tomorrow” she mocks, turning her back, and I walk to the door to close it as Alexandra exits.

I rest my head against the wood, wanting to forget about her dress, body, and scent. But the shouting from the computer jolts me awake.

“Shut up!” I yell, rushing to the device and plugging in headphones so the nonsense they’re about to say doesn’t escape this room.

“Were you leaning against the door because your flat mate left without you?”

Richard asks, holding back laughter with every word.

“Shut up, Rick, it’s just...”

“Just...?” Guilherme waits for me to finish.

“I’m just worried because it’s the first time she’s going out alone at night.”

“You look amazing,” Thomas mimics me.

“You look beautiful,” Guilherme adds.

“You look great,” Rick mocks in the end, and the three of them burst out laughing.

But I’m not laughing.

“Let’s talk about the family dinner at your place, Guilherme? Let’s discuss the shows before Christmas? Should I bring my guitar so we can play some music?”

I take a sip from my water bottle.

“Everything’s set with the dinner, we have two shows every weekend until December 21st, then after the holiday break, we’re back for another month of three shows per weekend until mid-February. Any questions?” Guilherme asks, raising an eyebrow, and I exhale, shaking my head.

“That New Year’s show, we’re not doing it, right?” I ask just to be sure.

None of us wanted to work on New Year’s, and for the first time in history, our boss actually listened to us.

“Victor confirmed we’re not doing it,” Richard adds in a tone as if he’ll crack our boss’s head open if he brings up that idea again.

“Oh, A.J., there are a bunch of guitars here, so just bring yours if you want,” Guilherme adds. “Dinner’s settled, shows are settled... Let’s go back to talking about Alexandra and why you’re so crazy about her. What happened… Did you finally find someone who said no?”, Guilherme teases, though there’s a hint of curiosity behind it.

“I’m turning this shit off.”

“Cut it out, A.J. I’ve known you since you were a cocky little brat, and I’ve never seen you like this. If you’re not in love, you’re falling — hard.”

“You’re so full of shit, Richard.”

“Hey, I’m not taking sides,” Thomas says, twirling the end of one of his dreads. “But you were staring at that door the whole call. And after seeing Alex? Yeah… I get it.”

“Of course. Alexandra ’s going out alone, I’m responsible for her, you know? I invited her to stay here, and now she’s going out alone, what if something happens?”

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