Page 158 of The Girlfriend Zone

He shrugs and smiles wickedly, a man with the upper hand again. “I said you’re too valuable. Now don’t make me regret it.”

I could kiss the sky. “I won’t, sir.”

Then I head to my seat and fire off a text to Birdie, hoping she’ll get it when we land. I really need her to earn her Underground Grandma Matchmaking Society stripes tonight.

51

FIRST KISS

Leighton

High Kick isn’t even open this late. It’s past nine in the evening, but Birdie called, desperate, begging me to come in to take some pictures.

“I need them tonight, darling. It’s completely my fault. My baker made the most incredible cinnamon rolls and I’ll be offering them tomorrow. But I need a decent picture for social. I can’t take photos to save my life,” she’d said. “Do this for me and I’ll leave the shop to you in my last will and testament.”

“You’ll do no such thing and I’ll be there in an hour,” I’d told her.

“Perfect. Can’t wait,” she’d said.

So here I am, answering the SOS. Even by Birdie standards, it’s unusual. But I love all her eccentricities. I love, too, the way she relies on me. Fact is, I rely on her as well, and I really should let her know that. But also, being here will keep me busy till I can see Miles again. He returnssometime tonight and he texted me after I sent that photo saying,I can’t wait to see you.

No idea when that’ll be, but I know it’ll be soon. I know, too, even if I’ve messed things up, I have the power to fix them. By talking, writing, speaking, photographing, communicating. My father wrote back to my email with six simple words: I love you and thank you.

And that was enough. Now, I rap on the locked door to High Kick and Birdie hustles over, unlocks it, and yanks it open. “Hi, darling! Thank you for coming, you’re simply the best,” she says, then shuts the door in a flurry, and adds, “would you look at the time.”

Then she’s off with a wink, rushing to the back of the shop and I’m…bewildered.

Until I turn to the counter where twinkle lights are set up behind it, flickering softly. Where mason jars of wildflowers line the coffee bar. And where the man I love stands behind the counter. Waiting. His hands parked on the Formica.

Like he’s ready to take coffee orders.

It’s just him and me here in the shop, and my heart sprints toward him. It’s been too long—the last twenty-four hours. Absently, I lift my hand and touch my heart locket as I walk toward him, like I’m in a trance.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey,” he says, then smiles like he has a secret and adds, “what would you like to drink?”

Okaaaay. We’re really role-playing here at this barista-and-customer thing. I look at the chalkboard menu and play along. “An Earl Grey latte.”

But he tilts his head in confusion, then points to his ears.

Oh. He’s wearing AirPods. “I can’t hear you. I have AirPods in,” he says.

I furrow my brow. Um, he can just take them out. But I say again, “An Earl Grey latte.”

And he shakes his head, then raises his hand and signs,Do you want steamed milk and I love you on top?

I. Have. Chills. From the confession, but also the way he’s made it. I start with that. “You…know…ASL?”

His smile is wider than the city. More satisfied than all the cats in the world. And all for me as he signs,I started learning last year.

The words echo through my body, settling deep in my heart. I answer him in the same language.You did? Why?

I believe my eyes but I also can’t quite believe he’s done this.

Yes. Because I love you.

And my heart flies as joy floods every cell in my body. “I love you too.”

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