Page 102 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

She was not about to become Meredith Grey in that one season—dizzy, overdramatic, and in way too deep with a guy who couldn’t figure out his own mind.

But with Angelo, she might already be halfway there.

Amira, being the shorter of the two, pulled Allison into a hug, squeezing her just tight enough to be affectionate without crushing her pregnant belly.

“Can’t. Breathe,” Amira joked, and Allison squeezed a little harder just for the fun of it, laughing in her ear. She released her after a few more seconds.

“Now, I assume you need my help packing?” Amira asked, raising an eyebrow.

Allison nodded and led her toward the half-packed box she’d been working on. “Angelo called like seven minutes ago and announced he’s coming over to help.”

Amira’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “And you didn’t want to be alone and helpless with the man of your literal dreams? Shocking.”

“Oh, shut up,” Allison shot back, giving her a playful shove. They both laughed as they walked into the kitchen.

Stacks of mismatched plates were spread across the counter, and Allison couldn’t help but think how ridiculous she must seem. Moving into a house that was probably as monochrome as a moody art film, with a man who seemed to treat color like a threat to his very existence. Her love for pinks and whites was bound to clash.

Oh well, I’ll make space,she thought, her lips twitching into a smirk.My pinks aren’t going anywhere.

Seconds later, the buzzer sounded, wiping the smug smile right off Allison’s face. Sensing her dread, Amira took charge, strutting to the door like she owned the place.

“Don’t worry, I got this,” she muttered with a wink.

Angelo stepped inside in under a minute, greeting Amira with all the stiff professionalism of a CEO at a shareholder meeting. “Angelo Taylor.”

“Oh, I know,” Amira replied, clasping his hand in hers and holding it just a beat longer than necessary. She shot Allison a not-so-subtle smirk. “Amira Davis. Best friend, resident troublemaker.”

Allison watched nervously, noticing the barely-there shift in Angelo’s demeanor. She had a radar for his micro-expressions now—tiny twitches, slight posture adjustments. Right now, he was giving off nervous.

That makes two of us.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Davis,” Angelo said, his voice softening as the hint of a smile crept onto his lips.

Allison’s eyes darted between them, feeling like a spectator at Wimbledon.Please let this go smoothly,she thought, her inner monologue running wild.

Amira beamed, her megawatt smile serving as her stamp of approval. “Come on in, then. And you can call me Amira,” she said, stepping aside with a wink at Allison.

“Hey,” was all Allison could muster when Angelo finally turned his attention to her.

“Hello, sweet girl.” His voice was lower, more intimate, as he walked toward her, never breaking eye contact. “I missed you.”

Allison blinked. “You… did?” She wasn’t expecting that.

Angelo hummed in response, glancing around the room. His eyes briefly lingered on the cluttered kitchen, a trace of nervousness flickering across his face before he straightened up, smirking. “So, you were saying you’ve packed already?”

Amira’s sudden burst of laughter made Allison jump. “Packed? This woman? Please. Allison’s a world-class procrastinator. She’ll pack when the movers are knocking on the door.”

Allison glared at her, crossing her arms. “That issonot true.”

Amira raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it so is.”

Sighing dramatically, Allison sank onto the couch, propping her feet up on the ottoman. “Fine, you two can pack. Clearly, I’m just a helpless pregnant woman.”

Angelo chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Helpless? You? Not a chance.”

Allison’s jaw dropped. “Are you both ganging up on me?”

“Absolutely,” Amira said, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “You’ve been caught. It’s what friends are for.”

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