around my waist.
“No, Jerry. Jerry!” Scarlett sighs and glares through the pass at our short order cook.
“What,” he grumbles.
“This order says no tomatoes.”
Jerry grunts. “So take them off.”
Scarlett’s mouth tightens, and her cheeks blaze the same shade of red as her hair. “Okay, you can read that the ticket says allergy, right? The guy is allergic to tomatoes. I can’t just pull them off.”
Jerry scowls. “That’s some bullshit. He probably just doesn’t like ‘em. Just peel ‘em off, he’ll be fine.”
I bite back a laugh and shake my head as Scarlett turns to give me a look, her mouth tight like she’s barely holding back. She takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of her nose before she turns back to Jerry.
“Jerry!”
“Just pull them—!”
“You are the worst cook I’ve ever even fucking heard of.” She shoves the plate back through the pass and glares at him. “Make it the fuck again, and I swear to God, if my customer has a heart attack or seizure or whatever because you suck at your job, I’m going to shove tomatoes down your fucking throat until you shit ketchup.”
I cover my mouth with the crook of my arm to stifle the roar of laughter. Jerry glowers at my best friend, but he also looks flat out terrified that she might actually do that.
And honestly, she might. Dark Water Falls girls don’t fuck around.
“Fine,” he grunts, turning back to the grill.
“Thaaaanks, Jerry! You’re the best!” Scarlett coos in this ridiculously over the top fake sweet voice. She jabs a middle finger at Jerry’s back and turns to me, rolling her eyes. I giggle as she drags me out into the mostly empty diner so we can gab behind the counter.
“So, fun morning shift?”
“What the fuck is that guy’s issue? I mean seriously,” she scowls. She turns and pours herself a cup of coffee and raises a brow to me.
“Yeah, please.”
She nods and pours me one.
“Cheers, baby,” she mutters. She takes a sip and then turns to lean against the counter. With a start, my face reddens as I realize we’re basically standing exactly where Oliver and I… well, you know.
…Yes, I sanitized the counter.
“Cheers.”
We sip our coffees as my eyes move over the two occupied tables. Early afternoon on a workday is always slow around here.
“You okay?”
I blink and turn back to her. “Huh?”
“I said are you okay?” Scarlett sets her mug down and reaches up to re-tie the pile of gorgeous red hair on top of her head. “You look distant.”
“I’m fine, I just…” I frown, and she does too.
“Barnes?” she growls, scowling. Scarlett’s my best friend, and she’s well aware of the fucked up arrangement I have with Bryce.
I nod, and she purses her lips tighter.
“That fucking prick,” she hisses. “Did he fucking hit you again?”
“No, no,” I quickly shake my head. “Just in one of his moods this morning.”
“Is it a mood or a condition if you’re always a douchebag?”
I laugh loudly, shaking my head.
“Thanks.”
“What?”
I smile. “I needed that.”
She grins back. “Hey, it’s what I’m here for. That and eventually saving up enough so that you and I and your Grams can get the fuck gone and go live on a beach somewhere.”
“Sounds amazing,” I sigh.
Scarlett’s grinning, but she suddenly stiffens, and her eyes go wide. I frown.
“You okay?”
“Oooh yeah,” she purrs, a cat-like grin spreading over her face. She’s staring past me, and I realize I hear the sound of a rumbling engine winding down and then turning off. I turn, and my heart jumps into my throat.
It’s Oliver, swinging a leg over and off his matte black and chrome bike. He’s wearing perfectly fitting jeans, riding boots, his leather jacket, open, and just a tight white t-shirt underneath it.
“He’s mine,” Scarlett blurts with a giggle.
“Excuse me?” A flash of jealousy spikes through me before I remember that Scarlett has no idea who he is, or that he and I already, uh, know each other.
“I called it!” she giggles. “My section.”
“No way!” I grin, playing along. “You’ve got two tables, I’ve got none.”
“Too bad, I call dibs,” she giggles. “Or fuck me, I’d take him to go.”
I blush, biting my lip as I grin and look up to see him stride inside. His eyes lock right on me, and my breath catches just like it did that first time he walked in here the other night as he strides for the counter.
“Table for one?” Scarlett blurts out.
“No, thanks,” he growls, his eyes just locked on me. “I was looking