Cheesy on the Eyes by Teagan Hunter Page 0,11

I know things are nuts at work being shorthanded, but they won’t always be. I’m sure it’s putting a damper on your social life. We’ll get that fixed soon, okay?”

“I know, Pops, but I’m happy being single. Don’t worry about me.”

He eyes me, not believing my words, and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by his skepticism.

It took me years of convincing him to let me manage our second location on the north end of the island. He was confident I was throwing away my life and my skills by shackling myself to some “small-time shop on some small-time island”. He wanted me to get out there and travel and discover what I love to do while I’m still young before “settling” for working for him…or being with Jaden. I argued with him about it for so long, but he wouldn’t budge.

He was right about Jaden but wrong about me working for him.

Running the shop is what I want. It’s where I grew up. It’s home to me. I love this town, this island. There will never be another place that makes me feel this centered.

I wouldn’t change any of it, not even the shitshow my love life has turned into.

“Speaking of your love life, Thea,” Jonas says, crossing his arms over his massive chest while leaning against the doorframe. “Frankie and I were going over the guest list. Should we pencil you in for a plus-one? Or are you flying solo like usual?”

Like usual?

I’m annoyed by how he says it, as if single is all I’ll ever be.

He’s probably right, but it still stings. Sure, I’d like to find someone to settle down with, but I’m fucking scared of what it could mean for my heart if things don’t pan out.

I can thank Jaden for that.

“I love you, Thea, but you’re just too much work. I need something easier.”

We were together for four years. I thought we would get married. He wasn’t perfect, but I know I’m a bit of a mess too. I thought we could overcome all our differences—and there were a lot—and make it work.

Then he basically told me I wasn’t worth the effort, and it fucking burned. Completely tore my heart from my chest.

I’ll pass on that heartache again.

“We have a special table for the lonely losers,” Jonas teases.

“Being the best man means I get to sit at the fancy bridal party table.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that whole dog and pony show of a bridal table. We’re just clumping people together in groups we think will cause the least amount of ruckus.”

Great. Because I’m single, I have to endure sitting with a bunch of strangers.

“I have a couple of teammates I’m sure you’d hit it off with, and they come brother-approved. I can put you with them, if you’d like.”

Teammates? Blech. I’ve heard the stories from the locker room. Hard pass.

I don’t miss his “brother-approved” comment either. Since Jaden broke my heart, Jonas has taken to giving (or not giving) the stamp of approval to my suitors. It’s stupid and antiquated, and I want to punch him in the junk any time he makes a remark about it.

“My one buddy, Geoff—I bet you’d like him. He also has this weird thing about food where he doesn’t eat anything red. He’s—”

“Plus-one.” I interrupt because I am not desperate enough to date some dude who won’t eat anything that’s a certain color. What even is that? “Put me down for a plus-one.”

His brows shoot up. “Really?”

“Yep. I already have someone I’m bringing.”

I don’t know why I say it, because I am definitely not dating anyone.

But I don’t want to be set up. I don’t want to sit with strangers. I don’t want to be put at the losers table.

My mom pops up out of nowhere, standing in the doorway with wide, excited eyes. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not.”

Her brows pinch together. “Then…”

“Well, I mean, I am. It’s, uh—it’s new. We haven’t really labeled it yet.”

Like so new it hasn’t even happened yet.

“Oh. Well.” Her eyes light up, and I can already see her planning my wedding too. “I look forward to meeting this boy.”

“What if it’s a girl?”

“Please.” My mother rolls her eyes. “Like I’d give a shit. I just want my children to be happy.”

“And that, Mom, is why you’re my favorite mother.”

My dad snorts. “She’s your only mother.”

“So you say.” I shrug. “I’m still convinced I’m adopted.”

“You too?” Jonas asks. “I thought I was the only one hoping that was the case.”

“Is