Page 32 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

Then again, where did her relationship advice get me? A dating site profile that acts like a magnet for psychos who think I only like to hook-up.

As I’m lost in my thoughts, Michelle waves goodbye to me from the back seat of the car, her face lighting up like a summer morning. I blow her a kiss in return. Seriously, how did Daniel end up with such a sweet kid? His late wife must have been an absolute diva to counterbalance his chaos. Michelle has this sparkle, this pure joy that feels almost magical.

I think about the crazy turn of events that unfolded today. From the misadventures with Emerson, to Daniel saving me like a modern-day knight, the unexpected detour to Michelle’s school, and now, the relief of being home.

I’m actually shocked that Daniel stepped in to protect me like that. He doesn’t exactly give off warmth or the ‘I’ve got your back’ vibe, especially with his nose always buried with work, snapping at everyone.

I’m no damsel in distress, but who wouldn’t relish being rescued every once in a while?

His attitude and the disrespect about it after were the worst, though.

Nope, not happening.

Just then, I realize how much I don’t want to end up in that kind of situation ever again. I grab my phone from my purse, open my profile, and click delete. I’m done with men. My lady parts can grow rusty for all I care. I’m happy to close up shop and die alone.

The wits in me for terrible dates are entirely exhausted.

With that, I watch Daniel’s car drive away and am about to enter the building when I hear a squeal from above.

“Look who’s dating her grumpy boss.”

My eyes narrow into slits when I see Amber standing by the window, spying on us.

“Say that again, and I’ll change the locks to our place the next time you’re out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Good thing I’m making popcorn,” Amber laughs. “I’ll need some for this story! Hurry on up.”

The scent of butter envelops our living room. I kick my shoes and step onto the plush rug.

Comfort, happiness, and beauty are the three major themes of our apartment. The décor of my home evokes the feeling of being in a tropical oasis. Fitting since my last name perfectly reflects my identity—Summers.

Our cream walls with blush accents complement the light brown couches and the forest green rug. A painting of a beach with coconut trees hangs on one wall, while a tall faux banana leaf plant stands at the end of the room.

“How did you even know we were outside?”

“Eagle eyes, girl.”

“So, you’ve been perched by the window all day?”

“I missed you.” She opens the oven to bring out the popcorn.

I shoot her a deadpan look. “You’re such a liar.”

She bursts into laughter. “Find my friend, remember? It was getting late so I checked in.”

She grabs a bowl, pours the popcorn, and drizzles powdered milk.

“I made it with honey,” she smiles, pushing the bowl to me.

I dig my palm in, grab a handful, and shove it in my mouth. It’s delicious.

“So, what have you really been up to?”

She lowers her voice. “Sasha asked me to be on the lookout for her.”

“You mean Richie’s girlfriend?”

“Shh.”

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