Page 76 of Pucking Matt
Oh, she’s really avoiding this. I have to press.
“Didn’t seem like a nobody?” I admit.
She walks past me. “He is.”
“Well, the nobody has your phone number.”
“Mhm,” she confesses. “He sure does.”
I cross my arms, watching her squirm.
When she catches my stare, she says, “Fine, but you cannot use this against me. Or I will neuter you.”
I chuckle. “Excuse me? Neuter me?”
“I took a few college courses with him, and then we went on a few dates.”
I start laughing. “Okay, that explains the nerves. Damn, girl, that boy made you that nervous?”
She shakes her head, her cheeks turning pink, so I slowly stop laughing. “No,” she says.
“No?” I question.
Those cheeks are turning a deeper color. “No, it wasn’t because of him.” She takes off down the hallway as another customer walks in. “You got this one,” she calls out. I’m left speechless as I watch her around the corner. Is she implying that it’s me who made her nervous? I take a moment to think as she disappears.What?
“Welcome to the Grind Stone,” I say. “What can I get started for you?”
My mind wanders to the nervous Amber who just ran away from responsibility. Is she saying that I’m the reason she got weird?
After I’ve served the customer, I walk to the breakroom. I knock on the door.
“So,” I linger on the word for a moment. “Earlier…”
“Please don’t say it,” she presses her lips together, blinking her eyes at me. “Just don’t say it. If you have to ask, you’re probably right. Let’s just get through the rest of the shift together, okay?”
I shrug, putting air in my cheek. Fuck. “Okay.”
She smiles, patting my chest. “Great.”
I follow her down the hallway. “Is that your type?”
She shoots a death glare at me, and I take that as my hint to drop it.
By the time we’ve closed up, we’re walking out to our vehicles. I need to get her to come with me to my mom’s elopement. I know I can tell my mom that I’m single, but this would so much better. I mention, “You didn’t answer me about the stupid thing. Will you come with me?”
She stops at her car. “What stupid thing?”
“It’s stupid, but I want you to come with me.”
“When is it?” she asks.
“The weekend.”
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay?” I ask. “You’ll come?”
She nods, and I feel a heavy amount of relief.
