Page 12 of The Ex Puck Bunny
Aleeyah doesn’t waver. “The guy that came in the other day who sat with your brother was cute.”
“You mean Grady Federer? He didn’t even recognize me. Do I really look that different?”
“I have no idea since we didn’t know each other in high school.”
“Also, my brother’s other best friend. They collectively called me The Puck Bunny Brat.”
“Those big meanies,” she says in a motherly tone.
“I lived up to the name. But to answer your question. Grady is not cute.”
Aleeyah’s eyebrows bounce. “He had a playful smile. Andwhat’s not attractive about thick brown hair? A chiseled jaw? A muscular build?”
“By default, he’s a troll.”
“Are we talking about the same guy?” She wraps the last bundle of cutlery. “If you were looking to date again, would you rather a guy with spindly arms, warts, a weak chin, and beady eyes?”
Now it sounds like she’s describing an actual troll.
“I’m never dating a hockey player again.”
Aleeyah laughs. “Those sound like famous last words and another way to say you’re going to end up tying the knot with one.”
My eyes widen. “Over my dead body. Plus, how could I date when I work two jobs, have a twenty-three-month-old, and live in my parents’ basement?”
“When Booker and I met, he literally lived in someone’s closet and rode a bicycle seven miles to work every day. Meanwhile, I lived in my grandmother’s attic, was enrolled in college, and sold plasma to put gas in my car to get to campus.”
“But you two are crazy about each other.”
Booker brings her coffee from the Busy Bee Bakery during the afternoon lull and rubs her feet every night.
Aleeyah laughs. “We were mostly just crazy.”
“No, that would be me, for giving Trey the time of day.”
“But maybe it’s time to let go.”
“Does Booker have a brother?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Four sisters.”
“I’m just saying, instead of looking at the past, you could look into the future,” Aleeyah says, now using a sisterly tone.
“That will not be found with one of my brother’s friends.”
She clicks her tongue. “Don’t tell me you never fantasized about any of your brother’s friends. I have three older brothers and I had just as many crushes going at the same time. Therewas Anthony with the glasses.” She sighs. “Guys with glasses. I’m looking forward to when Booker has to get readers.”
I tip my head back with a laugh. “I definitely don’t have a thing for guys with glasses.”
“Oh, and let’s not forget about Mike, short for Michelangelo. I mean, can you just imagine him whispering my name?” She flutters her eyes.
“That’s odd.”
“Oh, and Tyrell. He was H-O-T in high school. But then he hit a wall.” She sticks out her tongue.
A deep, resonant voice from behind says, “Who hit a wall?”
As if she knew her husband was there, without skipping a beat, Aleeyah says, “Tyrell Adams.”
