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“We’re having a hard time getting the lamb recipe right. Carmy says that the spice level in the apricot marinade is too much but he says that about graham crackers so I don’t really trust his judgment.” Sydney’s talking in between bites of mushy apple pie, bottom soggy and top burnt to a crisp. But her dad loves it and she kind of does too, warm slop and all. She attests it to the nostalgia, the comfort, all of the things that can take a dish from total ass to something you just can’t give up.
Emmanuel scoops up a pile for himself, tries to fit the ice cream into the same bite but fails. “I want to ask you something, but I don’t want you to get all mad,” Sydney looks up and narrows her eyes. It’s her least favorite thing to come out of someone else’s mouth, next to I need to tell you something. When is that ever good?
Her dad finishes his bite and clears his throat. “I mean I don’t want to pry. But are you and Carmen… y’know…” He makes an awkward gesture with his hands, intertwining them and as soon as she sees it the water she’s sipping goes down the wrong pipe.
“Agh! Sorry. Sorry you’re asking if-if… what? I’m with Carmy?”
Emmanuel nods with a concerned furrow in his brow and Sydney leans back in her seat. Maybe if she looks over at the old jukebox across the aisle for long enough he’ll forget he asked. “Why would you think that?”
Sydney’s always thought her dad was funny, witty even, in his own way. Sarcasm has never really been his forte though. He’s too transparent, in the best version of the term. She loves that about him, it being just her and him for so long, it helps to be able to read him so well. Right now, in this dingy diner with 60s jazz playing in the background, his seriously? face is pretty solid.
“Baby, I don’t know if you noticed but you talk about him all the time. It’s okay, you know. If you told me you were together I’d be excited for you! You have this look on your face when his name comes up, I can tell you love—"
Is he trying out for fucking stand up? No. Do I? Why is this even a question? “Dad! I’m not— that’s— I don’t have a look.”
Emmanuel is just nodding again, leans forward almost brushing his elbow onto the plate of mushy apple pie before she moves it out of his way with an eye roll. “I can do that thing where I imitate you when you talk about him. I don’t want to, but I will.”
Sydney recoils in nothing but absolute horror. “God! No. Nope. Please do not.”
His assumption isn’t without its reason, even if Sydney didn’t want to admit it. How she felt about Carmy was nothing short of inconvenient. Things she thought were totally normal turned out to not be. It’s not really that normal to stare at someone any chance you got for 20-60 seconds at a time. It wasn’t normal to be beyond jealous of said person’s girlfriend, it wasn’t normal to think about him every time she went to sleep, wonder if he’s sleeping too, wonder if it’d be strange to call him just because she missed his voice even if it’s only been three hours.
Carmen was also annoyingly attractive. The kind of attractive that gave her butterflies and made her inner schoolgirl swoon like an idiot. That definitely didn’t help.
“You know what actually, yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before but yeah. We’re together. I, uh, yup. So there you go.” Dude.
Emmanuel clangs his fork down loudly as Sydney’s eyes dart to make sure no one is looking. “Great to finally hear it! It’s been a while right? Definitely before the restaurant opened you talked about him the same way. I’d like to meet the boy. If it’s too soon that’s okay but at least for a bit, a quick hello, that’s it.”
It’s not that Sydney felt like a disappointment to her dad. Day by day he was believing in her, in her dream, her thing. There was just something about seeing him so excited. About someone he’s never even met, just because he thinks Carmy makes Sydney that happy. It’s nice, it’s twisted. It’s fucked. But who is she to wipe that grin off of his face?
He didn’t really mean to, but Carmy ended up memorizing which days Sydney was always late on.
“Late” being the operative word, they both usually got to the kitchen around 6:00 am, about an hour and 15 before everyone else, whether it be to last minute check on a menu addition or finish wiping down a station that a freshman rushed up on. Carmen found it hard to complain, whenever Syd came in just a minute or two after him she always said his name with a yawn and rubbed her eye while waving at him. His heart always did a strange skip beat thing when she did. He should probably get that shit checked.
On Wednesday and Friday mornings Sydney always arrived at 6:30 while Carmy was going over paperwork in the office.
“Sorry,” she says breathlessly. “I was—"
“Having coffee with your dad because his shift starts like 15 minutes later today.”
He’s not looking up at her when he says it so his stomach drops at her silence. When he does her eyes are a little wide, mouth slightly agape.
“I-I mean right? You mentioned it before so—" Now that he thinks about it, Sydney’s probably only said that once, and now he’s just a fucking creep.
“No. No you’re. You’re right that’s what. That’s what I was doing, yeah.” She clears her throat and unzips her jacket. “Did-did you already wipe down Connor’s station?”
He nods stiffly and tells her he did but Daniela’s still needs some work. She just responds with a quiet “cool” before rushing off.
Crushes are for fucking school children so no, Carmy doesn’t have a crush on Sydney. If he had to put a name to it it’d be more like, enjoyment, admiration, astonishment, feeling like the luckiest fucker alive for even getting to breathe her air. They’re adult feelings, much more fitting, even if he still feels like an idiot for having them.
The day moves the way it should, and an uneasy feeling creeps up Carmen’s neck all the way to his brain. Sydney hasn’t looked him in the eye since this morning, and he can’t shake the feeling that he’s made it way too weird. He must have said something else that offended her, his whole existence is offensive, he wouldn’t be able to blame her. Maybe it’s just that she didn’t get enough sleep? She never does and he hates that he doesn’t hound her about it more. It could be—
“You’re staring,” Richie comes up right behind him, whispering conspiratorially.
Carmy scoffs and averts his eyes back down to the tenderloin on his station half cut down the middle. “I’m not,”
“Uh, yeah ya fuckin’ are. She sick or somethin’?”
Carmen just narrows his eyes at Richie’s words, still not looking up, still too scared to let his flushed face lay exposed. “What? No, she’s fine. I mean I think she’s fine I didn’t um,” he clears his throat. “Syd’s fine.”
Richie raises his hands up like he’s in the middle of a police interrogation. “Hey I believe you, Cuz. Just checking. So to be clear, you’re staring because you’re in love with her.” Carmy’s knife clangs down on the metal tabletop.
“Fuck off, Cousin.” His volume raises enough for Sydney’s brown eyes to shoot up at them both and silently ask if everything’s chill. He offers her an awkward upturn of his mouth before glaring at Richie who’s just trying not to laugh.
When the night ends it’s basically unbearable. Sydney’s silence has been the loudest thing he’s heard all day, louder than that ridiculous happy birthday song Richie insisted all of the front of house staff sing to a guest at least twice over.
He approaches her at their lockers as she’s letting her hair down, tries not to let it throw him off.
“What’s up with you?”
“Hi to you too.”
Carmy huffs out a breath. “Syd. C’mon. You haven’t said a word to me since you came in this morning.”
“I sat next to you during Family.”
Which Carmy couldn’t have been more grateful for. “Yeah, but you were looking at your plate the whole time. Was it something I said? It was that weird shit I said this morning wasn’t it? I didn’t mean to be, y’know creepy or whatever I just figured that. Fig-figured that uh—"
Sydney places a hand on his shoulder, firm. “Dude. Chill. It’s nothing you said okay it’s…” She covers her face with her scarf. “It’s me. I fucked up.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
“I told my dad you were my boyfriend.”
If Carmy had anything to say before it’s completely gone now. His eyes are scrunched shut when he speaks up again. “You. You told him we were—?”
When his eyes open again Sydney’s just nodding, smiling apologetically.
“I did. But it’s okay! It was stupid and I shouldn’t have said it at all. I’m gonna tell him the truth, I swear, I’m just a dumbass.”
He wants to ask her how that even came up in the first place. How a conversation with her dad not only landed on him but ended in a sudden relationship between him and his CDC.
It doesn’t have to be a lie.
Yeah, fuck that. She doesn’t need to know. She probably just said that impulsively, couldn’t be more off put at the thought of dating him. It’s not like his track record is the best. Someone like Syd deserves the world, at the very least more than he has to offer.
“Anyways, that’s why I was acting like that today. Just fucking humiliated. So. I’ll um. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She’s gone before he can offer to take her home.
“Why the fuck aren’t these organized alphabetically?” Carmy’s hunched down behind the bar eyeing the bottles, shuffling them back into order. Natalie said she’d wanted them organized based on “vibe”, but that was fucking stupid so he’ll just deal with her wrath later.
He’s turning over a shady looking bottle of vodka when he hears Sydney’s voice. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
“My shift got cut short, figured I’d take a walk and ended up on Orleans,” It’s the first time Carmy’s ever properly heard Mr. Adamu and he sounds like the most cheerful voice that’s piped up all day.
“A walk? You work on the other side of town,”
“That’s what the car is for, baby. Oh, you know what I meant, do not make that face. I wanted to see my lovely daughter in her lovely restaurant. Also, I was wondering where Carmen was,” He says the last part a little quieter and Carmy figures he should probably stop crouching right about now. When he does, her dad’s gaze guides right to him and his eyes light up.
“Carmen! How are you doing? Is Carmen okay? Or do you prefer Carmy?”
“Uh, I’m. Carm-Carmen is fine, sir. Mr. Adamu. Sir. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, uh, that’s- that’s Carmy, Dad. Take a seat, I’ll be right… back.” Mr. Adamu starts to shuffle off his jacket on the chair of the table closest to the bar when Sydney’s rushing up to him, her toes practically touching his. Her next words are hurried whispers.
“Hey um, I didn’t tell him we’re not together yet and I did not know he was coming in today so can I kiss you?”
The word ‘yes’ is coming out of his mouth before his brain can register it and the next thing Carmy feels are Sydney’s soft hands cupping his face and her even softer lips pressing against his own. He hears a content sigh from her when his eyes slip closed that almost fucking destroys him and she pulls away all too soon, the gentle sound of their lips disconnecting echoing in his ears, basically ringing.
She brushes his lower lip with her thumb, lets it trail down to his chin and strokes. “Thank you,” she whispers again and she’s smiling nervously, the curve of her dimples complementing her face.
If she’d given him another second he would have said the exact same thing. Thankfully, she’s already back over toward her dad to ask if he’d like anything to take home with him.
“We finally debuted that bass dish I was telling you about, I could make that for you… or oh! Tina makes this fire poblano cauliflower soup and she thinks it’s not ready yet but honestly it’s perfect, she just made it for Family I can pack some up for you.”
“Soup sounds delicious,” Mr. Adamu smiles and Sydney returns it.
“Cool. I’ll see if I can break out the decent Tupperware. Be right back.”
Her dad turns toward him and nods his head. “Carmen, I’d love it if you sat with me. Just for a bit?”
“Yeah. Yes, of course.” Carmy sits right across from him and his hands are twitching when he sets them down on the table so he hides them in his lap.
Mr. Adamu interrupts the loud beat of his heart behind his head. The fuck am I so nervous for? “I got so excited I think I forgot to introduce myself properly. I’m Sydney’s father, Emmanuel.” He holds out his hand and Carmy sticks his own out, shaking it firmly.
“Syd, um. She talks about you all the time.”
“Likewise. She’d hate if I told you this but she gets this look in her eye when she brings you up it’s. It’s very sweet. I’m glad she’s doing this with someone she seems to like so much.”
She talks about him? A lot? Even hearing it from her dad it’s hard to believe. He’s probably mistaken. Carmy’s lips are still tingling from the kiss.
“This place would be nothing without her. I would be—"
“I could only find the fancy-shmancy Tupperware made of glass but it’s okay, you can keep it. Oh. Am I interrupting?” Sydney’s eyes dart between the two.
Her dad gets the jump on him. “Not at all. Actually, I was just about to ask Carmen here if he’d like to have lunch over at ours sometime. Maybe next Monday?”
It’s probably the most anxiety inducing thing Syd’s heard all day, and it’s already halfway through. She tries to save the situation, offer Carmy the out he deserves more than anything right now.
“Dad, that’s not—" She shakes her head trying to get her thoughts back in the right order. The thoughts that have been all fucking jumbled since she pressed her mouth to Carmy’s. She can still remember what he tastes like and it’s making her dizzy.
Carm pipes up. “That’d be really nice.”
Her eyes widen. Okay. Unexpected.
“Great! I’ll whip up something simple. Looking forward to it.” Emmanuel gets up with a quick goodbye and kisses her on the forehead with an annoyingly knowing look toward them both. When he’s gone Sydney can’t take her eyes off of Carmy, hoping he’ll pick up on her silent questioning of what the fuck was that? She can’t quite tell if he does.
“Should be fun.” He’s tapping his fingers against the hardwood of the tabletop and Sydney scoffs softly, sitting across from him.
“Carmy. You didn’t have to do that. It’s my stupid ass lie he shouldn’t even still think that… y’know that we’re… whatever.”
When he doesn’t say anything Sydney’s thoughts swim and swim. She’s such a fucking asshole, why’d she even rope him into this? Would it have been so hard to tell her dad that they’re not together, she just talks about her business partner so much because she has feelings for him so strong and inconvenient there’s hardly anywhere else to put them?
It would have been fucking painful but it would have at least been the truth. And now poor Carmy’s plagued by this inability to say no to her or her dad.
Fuck this. “You know what? I’m gonna tell him tonight, this is ridiculous—"
“No!” No?
Carmy’s hardly sparing a glance her way, looking down at his hands. “I-it’s just. I already said yes right? Would be real fuckin’ rude of me to just cancel so. S’fine, tell him after.”
Her next words are kind of under her breath, more like she’s trying them out rather than intending for him to hear. “You would do that for me?”
He finally looks up at her, blue eyes piercing. “Anything.”
Fuck, he’s ruining her. She still has to make sure, leans forward with both arms on the table now, crossed slightly. “Carmen.”
Carmy leans forward too, doesn’t blink. “Sydney. It’s fine. Promise.” He even holds out his pinky to link with hers, and if he’s using it to cut the tension it works, Syd chuckles and wraps her pinky around his. “You’re a dork.”
It’s Friday when her dad asks Carmy over, so the entire weekend is awkward as shit.
She would say it’s just on her side, but she knows Carmy’s feeling it too. He used to linger around the lockers for her when everyone else left for the night, but lately he’s been shacking himself up in the office and letting her leave without a goodbye.
When this lunch is done Carmy’s gonna drop her, he’s gonna drop her because she over fucking stepped and now everything’s off and they can’t even be friends anymore. This is the dumbest shit and Sydney’s just spending all day internally cringing at her terrible decision making. Why’d she even kiss him? 1000% unnecessary but what’s she supposed to say now? Kissing you in front of my dad wasn’t needed at all but I wanted an excuse to? Fuck everything.
“Syd,” Richie’s voice is as loud as it always is despite it being 8 am. She flinches at the sound.
“What?”
“Someone’s grumpy this morning. What crawled up your ass and died?” He leans on the counter next to her, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.
She rolls her eyes. “Nothing. I’m assuming you called my name because you need something.”
“I just wanted to know if the 10 course sampling menu is on for tonight. That one family from Wilmette is comin’ in and you know how they get.”
Her response is accompanied by an irritated sigh. “Fuck. Yeah, yeah, I remember. Um, yes it’s on, just give me 15 to start on the prep. I think we might have to 86 the duck breast but I’d have to ask—" she clears her throat. “Ask-ask Carmy.”
“And that’s a problem.”
“Yeah. No! No it’s not—it’s not a problem. I can ask.”
Richie just narrows his eyes at her. “You’re being weird. Did something happen? Did you two finally hook up?”
What the- “Fuck, Richie! No. No, it’s nothing. Well, it’s not nothing but I don’t wanna get into it at 8 in the fucking morning.”
“Fine, what the fuck ever. You two figure out your own shit. But I do have something to tell you from Carmy and let me assure you,” he leans in. “This is the first and last time I am playing telephone for you two dipshits.”
Sydney just sucks her teeth, widening her eyes and jolting her head forward for him to just tell her already. Richie gets the memo and continues. “He wanted me to ask you if you ate breakfast. Well, he didn’t want me to tell you he asked but. Same difference.”
Her stupid heart flips in her chest. She can feel a smile creep up her face but when Richie smirks it drops back down into a straight line. “Um. Yeah. I did. You can tell him that I’m okay.” She pauses, opens her mouth again. “And I mean, by any chance, do you know if he—"
Richie huffs and walks away. “First and last time, Syd!” She can hear him muttering under his breath. “Fuckin’ babies.”
Her dad ended up pushing the time back from 2 to 5, claiming what he had in mind for dinner sounded way better than anything he could make for lunch.
“I’m not sure, but I feel like Carmy’s bringing something.” She’s setting the dishes on the table, smoothing out one of her nicer polka dot patterned dresses she used to wear to church when she was a teenager. Her braids are pushed back with one of the dark gray headbands she could find that complements the dark blue of her dress, and it doesn’t hurt that it might keep her from nervously fiddling with them.
“The more the merrier! I just hope he doesn’t feel obligated.”
Sydney snorts. “I bet he does.” It’s a joke, but it still makes her stomach turn.
When the doorbell rings her heart drops to her toes. “I’ll get it,”
Her dad had a bunch of dramatic ass locks installed so it takes her a good ten seconds to get the door completely open. Behind it stands Carmy, hair slicked back just a bit wearing a nice dress shirt and navy colored blazer, and— are those his fucking oven jeans?
“Hey. Sorry I’m a little jumpy. I wanted to burn one before I got in here but I didn’t wanna smell like smoke. Fuck, I probably smell anyways.”
His nerves level hers, she laughs. “You smell good. And you look good too. I um—I-I like your blazer. Fancy.”
He smiles, tilts his chin up a bit. “Thanks. You look amazing.”
Shit. She’s about to respond when Emmanuel’s voice makes them both jump. “Carmen, welcome!”
She turns back toward Carmy. Raises her eyebrows as if to ask if he’s ready for this. He nods slightly, offers her a soft smile.
Sydney whispers. “Showtime.” She punctuates it with a tender kiss to his cheek and finally moves aside so he can enter.
“You brought a dish. Awfully kind of you.” Emmanuel quips.
They both look down at the dish as if it’s the first time they’re noticing it. It’s at least the first time she is.
“It’s not much, just a rosemary gratin. I didn’t know what the vibe was and figured this was um. Neutral enough.”
Emmanuel just smiles. “A gratin sounds lovely. Go ahead and set it down on the dinner table, everything else is just about ready.”
Luckily, her dad considers an old fashioned pot roast to be his specialty and spent all afternoon on it, didn’t even think about many other sides to go with it besides the baby carrots that simmer in the broth with the meat anyways. A gratin kind of goes perfectly with it.
“I toned down the spice level for this batch. Sydney’s mentioned before it’s not really your thing.”
Carmy shoots Syd a deadpan look from where he’s sitting next to her at the small dinner table. It just makes her snicker. “Ha. Really? She probably also said I ‘think graham crackers are spicy too’.”
It makes her dad laugh too. “She might’ve.”
“It’s true! And you always do that thing when you’re about to sneeze, like you scrunch one eye shut and rub your nose, it’s so cute.”
Now why’d you fucking say that, Sydney? She makes quick work of downplaying it before seeing any kind of a look in Carmy’s eyes. “You’re just mad you can’t even handle a jalapeño pepper,”
“The fu- I can handle a jalapeño pepper!” She can see her dad eyeing them but she needs to see this through. Sydney takes said pepper off her own plate and plops it onto his. “There you go,” she smiles cheekily as Carmy looks over to Emmanuel for help. The man shrugs. “Not my battle, son.”
Carmy just sighs defeatedly and stuffs the entire pepper in his mouth at once. He seems to handle it just fine for the first ten seconds, then does the scrunched eye thing and leans over to cough into his elbow. Sydney and her dad are both laughing into their glasses.
“Whatever,” Carm scoffs lightly, voice a little tight.
The meal continues without any kind of awkwardness to it, her dad asking Carmy’s to explain how he made the gratin and Carmy promising to pass over the recipe soon.
“Before we clean up I just wanted to, I don’t know, thank you.”
Carmy tilts his head to the side, confused. “Thank me ?”
“Well, I’m not sure how much she told you about it but Sheridan Road was tough for Sydney. Tough for us both really. I’ll never forget how you sounded on the phone when you told me it wasn’t working out.”
The tone change in conversation makes her shift in her seat uncomfortably. “Dad, please. It’s old news.”
“I know, I know. I just. I hated thinking about you having to go through all of that alone. You had me, but not the way you really needed someone.”
“I wasn’t there for her either. Not the way she needed me, back when we first started renovations.” Carmy places a tattooed hand over hers where it’s resting next to her glass, looks straight at her. “But I got lucky and she trusted me, kind of trying not to screw it up again, even though I probably still am.” A smile spreads onto her face as she mouths you’re not.
Her dad’s voice brings her right back. “That’s all I really need to hear, Carmy.”
Huh. Carmy.
Eventually Carmy takes his leave, but not before her dad can make him promise that he’ll be back. “I intend to give you the third degree next time. I have a lot of questions.” He narrows his eyes and plants a firm hand on Carmy’s shoulder.
He gets a nervous laugh in response. “Yes, yeah, um. 100%, I’ll bring another dish. The meal was delicious, Mr. Adamu. Thank you.”
“Okay, okay. My stomach’s starting to hurt, let’s go, Carm. I’m gonna walk him out.” Sydney plants her hands on his back and gently pushes him toward the door.
Emmanuel calls after them both, “It was nice talking to you, Carmen!”
When they’re at the threshold Sydney exhales.
“Thank you so much for fucking doing this, I know this isn’t how you’d wanna spend your day off. I’ll make it up to you I swear, I’ll um…” she snaps her fingers trying to think of something. “ooh! I’ll organize the files in the bottom drawer of the office alphabetically, I know you hate doing that.”
Carmy chuckles. “You don’t have to do that. Um, actually you could—" he looks down and up at her again. “One more time? To sell it?”
Just as she’s going to ask what “one more time” is supposed to mean he cups his hands around her face right beneath her jaw and connects their lips. He keeps the kiss brief and sweet, brushing his fingers and curling them at her nape, making Sydney’s knees feel all wobbly.
Their foreheads are pressed together for a few seconds before he pulls back and removes his hands from her face. “I uh. I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow, Syd.” The door is shut before she can return the sentiment. She turns around, now accepting at least 15 minutes of teasing from her dad.
No one’s peering from down the hall though.
He wasn’t even fucking watching.
Sydney slaps a hand over her face.
Admittedly it’s not the best idea he’s ever had but it’s the only one coming to mind.
It’s really been impossible to sleep or even rest his fucking eyes since he left Syd’s and that entire awkward weekend was enough for him to know he can’t be normal about her. He’s way past that. He blew past that the day he met her, hopeless from the very start.
It’s 5:06 in the morning when he leaves his house, preps for work like he always does but has a different destination in mind for when he gets out of his car. It’s Tuesday, her dad doesn’t even have that damn extra time. This couldn’t be any more of a bad idea.
The lobby door is miraculously open so Carmy sprints up the stairs, hoping and wishing and praying her dad is already awake.
He knocks, rocks back and forth on his toes out of breath until the door opens. When it does Mr. Adamu’s eyebrows have flown up his head, as surprised as he should be.
“Carmen. What a surprise. A little early for a visit, son.”
“I know, I’m sorry I am. I’m here to— it’s.” Carmy sighs frustratedly at himself and starts over. “Can I talk to you? Please? I have. The-there’s something you should know.”
Emmanuel nods and motions for Carmy to follow him, leaving his shoes at the threshold almost instinctively.
“Whatever it is, it’s alright. Take a breath.” It’s incredible actually. It’s like Sydney inherited this ability to be a calming presence from her dad. It’s not surprising, just fucking jarring.
“We lied. We lied, we're not. We’re not together.”
“Huh. Is that right?”
“Yes. It is but. I’m uh. I’m-I’m in love with her. I’m in love with Sydney so. I wanted to help her. Didn’t have it in me to say no to her.”
Emmanuel stays silent while Carmy paces, so he continues. “She’s- she’s so kind, and beautiful, honest and-and nerdy, and she’s funny— the funniest person I know— and she’s the reason my head’s still on my body. I don’t really remember the version of myself that existed before Syd and I don’t really want to so-so that’s why I went along with it just to know what it was like to be with her, even if it was a lie. And that is. That is so fucked up. I understand if you wanna kick me out right now.”
He’s a little out of breath and he looks over to see Emmanuel sitting down on the couch, smirking a bit. He sighs and stands. “I really like you, Carmy. I do. You’re good. I’m excited for when you come over for dinner again.”
Carmy’s eyes just crinkle, confused as shit. Mr. Adamu tilts his head up to something behind him, and Carmy turns around to see Syd with her oversized T-shirt and bunny print pajama shorts. She looks like a dream.
He barely hears Emmanuel announcing his intention to leave them alone, Sydney stepping toward him. Carmy still runs his mouth.
“Do you um. You-you need a ride to work?”
She’s toe to toe with him again, brings both hands up to rest flat on his chest, trails them up his shoulders and back down again. She shrugs, brilliant brown eyes flicking back and forth between his. “A ride would be nice. Um, but. Kiss me first? Like, for real?”
He does, and if his mouth wasn’t so busy he’d tell her it was real the whole time.