Hangovers are a bitch.
Turns out, while around distant relatives you don’t like, drinking helps you tolerate them. It also turns out that drinking will convince you that attempting to seduce your best friend in a hotel room is a fantastic idea.
Damn you, alcohol. You’re the best friend who’s also a bad influence.
Good for the mind but bad for the hormones.
Rex was thankfully smart enough not to mention last night. He knows I’d die of embarrassment, and he’d lose his favorite cookie-maker. As much as I’d like to forget last night, I can’t. All I’m doing while taking my bath is asking myself, Why?
Why did I enjoy our boyfriend-girlfriend game so much?
Why, even as awkward as I feel now, wouldn’t I mind if he came barging in here, asking me to share my bath?
Why? Why? Why?
These past few months have been hard on me and on my heart, but Rex has been by my side every step of the way. He goes beyond the best-friend title, and sometimes, I wish he’d move into the boyfriend title.
I love him so damn much.
If only things were different.
If only he believed in love.
I understand he doesn’t want to break my heart. I’ve seen him struggle with women—struggle when they begged him to give them more than a quick screw, struggle to cut them off, struggle to put himself out there. As much as I love him rejecting them, I wish he hadn’t turned me down the same way.
When I get out of the bathtub, I drop my towel and get dressed into my pajamas. On my way back to my bedroom, I snatch my phone and hop into my comfy bed. As soon as I glance at the screen, nausea fills my stomach more than this damn hangover.
Margie: Hey! My birthday is next week. We’re having a dinner at El Pacinos! Tacos and margaritas are calling our names. Please come!
So many emotions flood through me as I stare at her text message—envy, guilt, and sadness. A tear slides down my cheek as I contemplate whether to reply. Some days, I do. Some days, I don’t.
Me: I have plans. Sorry.
Seconds later, my phone vibrates.
Margie: Come on, Carolina. Talk to me. You said I didn’t do anything to piss you off, but all you do is blow me off. You left the dorm without even saying good-bye!
She’s right. Rex and his roommate, Josh, went to my dorm and packed up my things, and I haven’t been back.
Me: I’ve been busy working, and campus is such a long drive.
Margie: I can come there. Girls’ night this weekend?
Me: Not this weekend. I’ll get back with you.
Margie: Whatever. I’ll just stop reaching out.
I sigh, wishing I had the guts to say more.
I haven’t talked to Margie since I dropped out. When I disappeared from my dorm, she called and texted every day. I never answer her calls, but I text back, telling her I am busy or have a lot going on. I blow her off every time she asks to hang out.
After plugging my phone into the charger, I tuck myself into bed. My head might feel better after sixteen hours of sleep.
“Good morning, honey! How was your trip?” Shirley asks, her voice cheerful and loud when I walk into the diner bright and early.
Shirley is the owner of the diner I work for and waitressed here for years before her mother passed it down to her. She’s a dark-skinned woman in her sixties who’s a kind soul full of wisdom. I frequently studied here for hours in high school while eating slices of her famous pie. She never complained about me taking up a table, nor did she fail to slide a free slice in front of me—cherry, my favorite. She attends my father’s church regularly and is a frequent donor of everything sweet.
“I think I’m in need of a vacation from that vacation,” I grumble, grabbing an apron and tying it around my waist.
She laughs. “Oh, family weddings. They’re always so fun.”
“And also depressing,” I add with a frown.
When I moved back to Blue Beech, my father offered me a job at the church, but I declined. Working for him is a bad idea. I’d hear his lecturing forty hours a week, and he’d watch every move I made. I still volunteer for functions at the church on my time off, but I can pick and choose those dates. They’re normally when my father is busy or in a public place.
Shirley’s Diner has been a staple in our town for decades. It has cute ’50s-themed décor—complete with classic red booths, black-and-white-checkered floors, and bright teal walls. The most popular part of the diner is the silver counter in the front with a glass case filled with slices of pie in every flavor imaginable. Shirley makes them herself every night, and I stay over to help sometimes. It’s the least I can do for her since she gave me a job and donates so many of them to the charity dinners I throw.
“Your boyfriend is in your booth,” Candy, another waitress, sings while skipping into the kitchen.
Rex and his family have always been regulars at the diner, but he’s here nearly half of my shifts and sits in the same booth in my section every time. On these days, he wakes up earlier than usual, brings his laptop to work, and eats. He also leaves me crazy tips, to which I try to shove back into his hand, pockets, shirt—wherever there’s a crevice on him—but he won’t allow it. He knows how hard up for cash I am. He also knows I won’t take any money from him, so this is his way of helping me out.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I reply.
Candy rolls her eyes while Shirley laughs in the background. “He’s so your boyfriend.”
“Sweetie, sooner or later, that boy will be your husband,” Shirley gushes. “You two need to do some growing up.” A grin takes over her wrinkled face. “You wait and see.”
“Shirley, I’m beginning to think you’re crazy,” I remark, shaking my head.
“Not crazy, honey, just wise.” She squeezes my shoulder.
I push my notepad into my apron, drag my hair into a ponytail, and rub at my tired eyes.
“Good morning, Lina babe,” Rex greets as soon as I come into his view. He’s wearing a black baseball hat that covers his bedhead and a loose gray sweatshirt. “I’m a little offended you told them I wasn’t your boyfriend.”
Thankfully, since the diner only opened an hour ago, nearly all the booths are empty, and no one is hearing this boyfriend talk. Rex is sprawled out in his booth, his closed laptop on the other side of the table. An elderly couple—Candy’s grandparents—are situated in a booth in her section, and a few police officers are immersed in conversation at the counter.
“What?” I ask when I reach him. “How’d you hear that?”
“I not only like this booth because it’s in your section, but I can also hear all the kitchen talk. You ladies are loud as hell when you gossip about me.” He arches a brow. “It seems to be your favorite subject back there. Wait until they find out I was granted the role of being your boyfriend over the weekend and we have still yet to break up.”
“Oh God, get over yourself,” I grumble.
I’m clueless on how to tell my parents we broke up. We should’ve thought about this following us home when we started the stupid charade. No matter what, when I tell my parents we broke up, they’ll blame it on Rex. Even if I say it was my decision, there will be no changing their mind. They’ve seen Rex as a bad influence all these years and me as their innocent little princess—except for the whole dropping out of school. My innocence status dropped a few notches after that.
He stretches his legs out and smiles. “Have I mentioned how much I love you in that uniform?”
“Yes,” I say with a groan. “Every day I serve you.”
Our uniforms stay with the ’50s theme—red-and-white-striped dress with a white apron and white shoes. We all sport them with the exception of Shirley, who’s retired from the outfit and wears a tee sporting the diner’s logo. Last week, we jokingly started a petition to change our uniforms, and she said she’d consider the change.
“I’ll have my usual, my hot candy cane-striped waitress.” He doesn’t even bother to open his menu. “And a coffee.”
I leave to start his order, and when I return to his booth, his laptop is open in front of him. I drop a handful of sugar packets onto the table before setting his coffee down. Rex has a sweet tooth—hence why he loves my cookies.
“Aunt Lina!”
I glance back to see my nephew, Henry, barreling my way, and I nearly stumble back when he hugs my legs, peeking up at me with a bright smile. A Superman cape is tied around his neck, and his sneakers light up with every move he makes.
“We came to see you for breakfast!” he beams. “Grammy said I can get smiley-face pancakes!”
I bend to squeeze him into a hug and see my sister coming our way with my two-year-old niece, Addy, on her hip.
Tricia’s gaze pings from me to Rex in the booth, her eyes widening in interest. “Oh, hey, your boyfriend came to see you this morning. How cute.”
I can’t tell if her comment is a compliment or a dig. My sister is a hard person to read and isn’t a Rex fan. He hooked up with one of her friends in high school and then never called her back after the sixteen voicemails said friend left. She needs to get over it. She’s married with children now.
Tricia and I weren’t close growing up. My parents were strict with every move I made but not with Tricia. She had more freedom and could get away with mediocre grades, and my parents accepted her choice not to attend college. After I moved into her loft, our relationship has improved, but we’re definitely not best friends. She’s also taken on the hobby of finding me a man to marry.
Trailing Tricia is my mother, the expression on her face even more unreadable than Tricia’s tone.
“Did you say boyfriend?” Candy squeals, rushing our way. She is nearly jumping up and down when she reaches us. “Carolina keeps denying it!”
“Oh, they’re together all right,” Tricia confirms. “They made it official over the weekend at our cousin’s wedding.”
My eyes flash to Rex’s in a help me look.
“Isn’t that right?” my sister adds skeptically, her gaze pointed at Rex as if this is a test.
“That’s right,” Rex answers, shutting his laptop and sliding it away from him. “We’ve been keeping it on the down-low for this very reason—to stop people from gossiping and making a big deal about it. It’s new, and no matter what, we’ll always be best friends first.”
What the heck did we get ourselves into?
“Mom! Pancakes!” Henry squeals, interrupting this awful moment and stealing everyone’s attention.
Kiddo is getting extra pancakes today.
Henry rushes toward the booth, sliding down to the wall, and Shirley already has a high chair ready to go for Addy when Tricia sits down next to him.
“Hi, sweetie,” my mom says, giving me a peck on the cheek before moving her attention to Rex and giving him a wholesome smile. “Good morning, Rex.”
“Morning, Mrs. Adams,” he says with a grin before gesturing to his booth. “You guys are more than welcome to join me.”
“You’re so sweet,” she replies. “We have a handful over there that might be too noisy for you this early in the morning. I can’t promise that you wouldn’t be wearing Henry’s pancakes by the end of the meal.”
Rex chuckles.
“Be over in a minute to take your order,” I rush out to her before this gets weirder.
“Perfect, honey.”
“Holy shit,” I hiss to Rex as soon as she’s out of earshot. “We need a plan, pronto, to break up this relationship.”
Rex taps his fingers against the table. “We should’ve thought about the post-wedding aftermath.”
I squeeze into the seat across from him and lean in closer, lowering my voice. “It’s simple. You broke up with me.”
He rests his elbows on the table. “The fuck it is. I’m not being the bad guy in this fake breakup. You”—he points at me—“broke up with”—he thrusts his thumb toward him—“me.”
“Fine,” I groan, throwing my hands up while he relaxes back against the booth and grabs his coffee. “I’ll say it’s because you couldn’t sexually please me. I can work with that.”
He tilts his mug toward me. “Yeah, go tell your preacher father that I couldn’t sexually please you. No one in this town will believe you.”
I scoff. “Why?” I do a sweeping gesture of the diner. “Because all the women here know what it feels like to be sexually pleased by you since you’ve slept with everyone in this town with a vagina?”
“Nope.” He takes a loud sip of his coffee. “I haven’t slept with Candy or Shirley—”
I cut him off. “Really?”
“What? You insinuated I’ve slept with all the women in town. I haven’t slept with your sister—”
I interrupt again, “Thank God for that.”
“Or your mother.”
I snatch the knife from his side of the table. “I’m going to stab you and get fired from this job.”
He stretches his arms along the booth. “There isn’t one person in here who I’ve slept with.” He pauses and lifts a finger. “Well, except for you.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I’ve also never shared a shower with any of them.” He does the same motion as before. “Except for you.”
I cross my arms, heat creeping up my cheeks. Oh no. He’s not bringing this up for the first time here. “Oh, you mean the shower where you were too wimpy to get naked?”
“Not a wimp. I was the only smart one in that shower,” he says, his voice thick.
“Wimp,” I snap back.
His dark brows furrow. “Drunk ass.”
I jump up from my seat. “I need to get back to work. I’ll be sure to spit on your waffles.”
He licks his lips. “I love your spit.”
I roll my eyes. “Quit the flirting. It’s been made known that your flirting leads to nothing but boring showers.”
He tenses. “That shower was definitely not boring.”
“It was for me. You couldn’t even look at me.” I’m struggling to keep my voice low. I’m also struggling not to bop him in the head with the menu on the side of his table.
“Trust me, my dick got hard with every peek I made. When I saw your ass in the shower in front of me, I nearly died.” He holds up his coffee. “Can I get a refill, please?”
I blink at him, ready to see my heart fall at my feet as it rages against my chest.
“Extra cream,” he adds, licking his lips and thrusting the cup closer my way.
Just as I’m struggling to come up with a reply, Henry calls my name. I pivot on my heel, trying to catch my breath, and look at him.
“We’re ready to order!” he calls out. “I need lots and lots of syrup with my pancakes, please!”
“Sugar-free syrup,” Tricia adds.
“You’d better go help them,” Rex adds with an annoying chuckle.
I slide his coffee mug along his table, leaving it there, and stroll over to take their order. On my way back to the kitchen, I swipe Rex’s mug from his table without saying a word.
“I’m so jealous,” Candy squeals after I call out my orders to the cooks. “Why would you want to hide being in a relationship with Rex Lane? He’s so hot.”
I went to high school with Candy. She was part of the popular crowd and wasn’t that nice then, but she’s been cool since I started here. I somewhat think of her as a friend. She only irks me when it comes to Rex and how she makes a big deal about him being here.
The rest of my shift goes smoothly. I bring Rex his coffee refill and breakfast, and he thankfully doesn’t mention our shower party of no fun again.