Page 27 of Unlikely You

I was hopeless. Completely hopeless.

That nightI didn’t get much of a break because we were behind on online orders (again), and there was fresh honey that Dad had harvested that needed to go into clean jars, so that was our family project for the evening.

Once I was finally done with everything, I dragged myself into the bathtub with some bath salts and my waterproof ereader. My book was exciting, so it was keeping me awake, but the second I put my pajamas on, I was ready to pass out.

I checked my phone one last time to find a link from Bibliofile for a sapphic romance that was on sale. I immediately one-clicked the book.

You’re always looking out for me.

I still hadn’t comeup with a good plan to get Bren the twenty dollars, but I’d run through a lot of ideas. I’d bounced some of them off Ellie, but she wasn’t very helpful. She just told me to be brave and ask her to get lunch.

There was no way Bren would agree to get lunch with me.

Still, I could ask, right? She’d say no and I’d try something else. The day must have used up all my fucks because as I was covering the table with the blankets to close up shop for the night, I stopped right in the middle of what I was doing and walked over to Bren’s table.

She stared at me with raised eyebrows.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked in the least helpful voice.

“I’d like to buy you lunch. Next week.” There it was. I’d said the words out loud.

If possible, her eyebrows went even higher and were in danger of merging with her natural hairline.

“Are you fucking serious?” There were no more customers around that might get offended by her language, thankfully.

“Yup.”

She shook her head slowly back and forth as if she didn’t know what to make of me.

“Please? Just let me buy you lunch and then I’ll leave you alone. Pretend that we don’t know each other.”

Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. “Wedon’tknow each other.”

“That’s fair.” I waited for a moment. “One lunch, Bren. Please.”

I liked the way her name felt on my tongue. There was a softness and a weight to it. An intimacy that tasted good.

Her shoulders tensed, climbing up toward her ears before dropping back down.

“If I let you buy me lunch, you’ll leave me alone?”

No, but she didn’t know that.

“Uh huh.” I nodded.

She let out the world’s longest sigh.

“Fine.”

“Do you want my number? Or you can just DM the Holloway Apiary social accounts. I’m the one who usually goes through them.”

“No,” she said, grabbing one of her business cards and scrawling something on the back. She held it out to me, and I took it.

I’d expected a username for a secure messaging app or something, but she’d given me her phone number. Oraphone number. My mouth dropped open in shock.

“It’s not a fake number,” she said. “You can check it.” Her chin jutted out defensively.

“I trust you,” I said, and she snorted.

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