Page 32 of Give Me Love

“I’m just stating a fact.”

“I was being sarcastic, Bryce.” What an asshole.

“Hey, don’t get upset about it. I was just telling you my opinion.”

“Well, you know what they say about those,” I reply, with no flicker of a smile.

He reaches his hand across the table and touches mine. My eyes shoot down before looking at his face. A feeling of calmness washes over me, instantly fading my anger.

Why was I getting upset?

“Sorry. I wasn’t degrading your job. I just wanted to know if you had another plan?”

“And if I didn’t?” I ask, looking down at his digits over mine.

“Then you don’t,” he says simply, taking his hand back. I inhale and move my hair from my neck, feeling as though I’m under a microscope. I’m not sure why. I’ve never been ashamed of my job before and I’m not now…not really. It’s just, this dude owns a nightclub and well, I pour coffee.

But you plan to do more.

“Sorry,” I say with a furrowed brow. “That place is like my second home. And if you must know, I plan to buy it. I also have a business degree.”

He nods, seeming to be proud he’s right and he is. I’ve done nothing but work my ass off since I left home, and it’s paid off. Or it will be as soon as the bank gives me what I want.

I take my last bite and push my plate away. The windows are fogged, and I get chills across my bare legs. Why do diners always have amazing air conditioners?

“Where did you grow up?” he asks.

“Now who’s full of questions?”

“Hey, I thought this was how it worked?”

I grin as Abby places the check on the table and I’m happy the mood has lifted.

“You ready to go?”

“Yes. It’s freezing in here.”

Bryce fishes his wallet out. He tosses a Benjamin down and I’m secretly glad I can defrost in the Georgia heat. The man who thinks I’m funny slides out of the booth.

“You’re not waiting for your change?” I ask.

“No. Don’t need it. Come on.” He walks toward the door and I follow.

Bryce gives a nod toward Monnie, who replies with, “So long, my boy. Tell your dad to give me a call, and bring that pretty girl back next time you come.”

I blush at his compliment and smile as we head out of Monnie’s Diner.

The night air is sticky, melting the goosebumps off my legs. A tiredness washes over me from the food in my belly and the alcohol swimming in my veins. I yawn as Bryce opens the passenger door, and I climb inside the comfortable classic car.

After getting in himself, I’m taken aback when he reaches over me to grab my seat belt. I stiffen, but inhale spicy, fresh forest green.

Damn, he smells good.

My lids shut as his scent surrounds me, and between my sudden tiredness and his smell, I want to crawl up beside him and go to sleep, but then I feel him move away.

“Sorry,” he says back on his side, looking ahead with a wrinkle between his brow. “Put your seat belt on.”

“What are you sorry for?”

---