Page 100 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

They headed to the kitchen, Amira peeking into the pan with a grimace. “Well, it’s not on fire, so that’s promising.”

“High praise,” Allison said, rolling her eyes as she grabbed plates.

As they dished up, Allison realized Amira had a point. She didn’t need to make a decision right now. Maybe, just maybe, moving in with Angelo wouldn’t be the disaster she feared.

And hey, at least he could take over cooking.

Allison eventually decided Amira was right—as usual—and texted Angelo to say she had caved.

Now, a week later, she found herself doing a frantic impression of a worker bee, stuffing her life into cardboard boxes. As the reigning queen of procrastination, she had, naturally, waited until the day before Angelo was supposed to show up for the move to start packing.

Stubbornly refusing to ask for help, Allison spent the day sweating like a pig, folding her belongings—cups, towels, books—into neat little boxes. Who knew her stuff would suddenly multiply when she needed to pack?

Just as she was folding her underwear into a satisfyingly neat stack, her phone rang. Startled, she nearly dropped an entire handful of panties.

Who dares interrupt my glorious procrastination?

Without bothering to check the caller ID, she answered. “Hello?”

“Hello, sweet girl.”

This time, shediddrop the underwear.

“Oh,” she cleared her throat, trying to regain some composure, “hi, Angelo. Everything okay?”

“That’s why I’m calling. Do you need help with packing?”

“Packing?” she echoed, her brain still caught up in the fact thatAngelowas on the other end of the line.

A deep chuckle rumbled through the phone. “Yes, Pinkie. Packing. You know, for the move tomorrow?”

That snapped her back to reality. “Oh! Well, I’ve, uh, already packed.”

There was an audible scoff. “Right. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

And just like that, he hung up before she could protest. Allison stared at her phone in disbelief.

Did he just…

For a brief second, she considered calling him back to tell him she didn’t need his help. Then she realized there was no point. Angelo was a force of nature, and she wasn’t going to win this one.

Instead, she called in her own backup.

“Help has arrived!”

Allison scoffed as Amira burst through the door, nearly knocking her out of the way with the dramatic swish of her faux fur coat.

“Youdorealize this is my apartment, right?” Allison quipped.

“Don’t care,” Amira shot back, making a beeline for the living room to drop her coat and bag, revealing a pair of perfectly fitted jeans and a black crop top.

Allison raised an eyebrow, her eyes scanning her friend’s outfit. “I asked you over to pack, not audition for a music video.”

Amira glanced down at her ensemble and shrugged. “I don’t see the problem. Besides—” she paused, gasping theatrically, “there’s clearly something wrong here.”

Allison’s heart skipped a beat. “What? What is it?”

“Why areyouwearing a crop top?”

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