Just Friends (Blue Beech)

by Charity Ferrell

  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 m
ade 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.

  14

  Rex

  “Thank God you’re here,” Maliki comments when he answers the door.

  It’s late. I’ve been up, working on my game, and then Sierra texted me, reminding me about her computer. She instructed me to text Maliki when I was here and not to knock since Molly would most likely be sleeping.

  Their house was recently remodeled and looks awesome. Sierra is an interior designer, so she had the most say in the changes. Maliki stepped to the side, letting her create her dream home for them.

  “She’s been whining about her computer nonstop,” he adds as I follow him into the living room.

  Sierra is on the couch, and next to her is a sleeping Molly, her head resting on Sierra’s lap.

  “Oh, shut it,” Sierra chimes in. “I have not.”

  Maliki nods toward Molly. “I’ll put her to bed.”

  Sierra nods and plants a kiss on Molly’s forehead before Maliki scoops his daughter up in his arms and carries her down the long hallway.

  “Let me grab my laptop,” Sierra says, pulling herself up and plodding barefoot to the kitchen while I relax on the couch.

  Maliki returns at the same time she hands it over to me. He’s cool as shit, and he owns the only bar in our town—Down Home Pub. He took it over years back when his father nearly went bankrupt and then moved to Florida. My sister works with him, bartending a few nights a week, but now that her interior design company has taken off, she’s cut down on her hours.

  “How was your lovers’ trip?” Sierra asks, her and Maliki sitting next to each other. She turns, resting her back to his side, and he tucks his arm around her waist.

  It’s time like these when I wonder in the back of my mind if I’m capable of having that. Sure, Carolina and I snuggle sometimes, but this is more than snuggling. There’s a certain intimacy, and the love they have for each other bleeds off them. Briefly, I wonder what it looks like when Carolina lies against me like that. Does our … friendship … our love bleed off us?

  “It wasn’t a lovers’ trip,” I scold, opening her laptop and powering it on.

  Sierra tilts her back and smiles up at Maliki. “Aw, babe, do you remember when we were friends and tried to hide that we were in love with each other?”

  Maliki’s arm tightens around her, and he brushes his thumb against her cheek with his free hand. “Yep, and what a waste. Imagine all the extra time we could’ve had if we had stopped pussyfooting around.”

  Sierra lifts her head while they look at me with expectation.

  I switch my attention to the laptop, hitting keys. “No pussyfooting around. I don’t get what no one understands about us being only friends.”

  Fuck. Why is this all I’ve been hearing about lately?

  Maliki chuckles, shaking his head. “Quit giving him shit, babe. He’ll figure it out eventually.”

  Sierra groans. “Hopefully, it doesn’t take him too long. Remember what happened when you didn’t step up?”

  He frowns. “Don’t remind me.”

  “I got married.” She stresses every syllable as the words leave her mouth before focusing on me. “Do you want Carolina to marry someone else, Rex?”

  I rub at the sudden tension in my neck, the thought hitting me like a headache. “Carolina isn’t getting married.”

  I fucking hope not.

  “How do you know?” Sierra continues, as if her mission tonight is to piss me off. “I got married.”

  “She won’t,” I grind out, contemplating whether to change her password and the language to Chinese in revenge for her taunting.

  I love my sister, and I know she means well. We’ve always been the closest, but she’s a pain in the ass.

  “Are you saying that because you don’t want her to get married?”

  “Jesus, babe,” Maliki cuts in, shooting me a sympathetic stare while giving her a gentle squeeze. “You’re going to make his head explode.”

  She sighs. “I want to see my baby bro happy, and he needs to stop being dumb.”

  I hold up her computer, arching a brow. “The one who can’t figure out her computer is calling me dumb?”

  “Learn from my mistakes, little bro.” She skims her fingers along Maliki’s arm. “Don’t you think they’d be cute, babe?”

  “So cute,” Maliki says, mocking her voice. “Fucking adorable.”

  “Funny,” she deadpans. “Remember who you sleep next to at night.”

  Their relationship story is pretty damn entertaining. Maliki used to kick my sister out of his bar whenever she was underage and tried to sneak in. It became a thing to them. They’re so opposite—my sister being the rebellious sorority princess and Maliki being the bartending bad boy who hated commitment. I admire their relationship so damn much.

  Maliki smacks a kiss against the top of her head. “The best damn woman in the world is who I sleep next to at night.”

  I gag. “Gross. You two save your flirtfest for later.” I drop the laptop onto the couch and stand. “Computer is fixed.”

  “Oh, sweet Carolina, ba, ba, ba!” Josh sings when Carolina walks into our apartment.

  He does it every damn time.

  “Shut up and leave her alone,” I grumble in annoyance, pausing my game.

  Josh is cool. We shared a few classes together at Iowa State and were partners on a project. He’s a few years older than me, clean, not that much of a pain in the ass, and he pays rent on time. The only times I consider kicking him out is when it comes to Carolina. He—along with every-fucking-body else—gives me shit about our relationship and has threatened to ask her out one too many times. He won’t. There would be an eviction notice on his bedroom door as soon as the words left his mouth.

  He’s your typical hipster who wears beanies over his shoulder-length hair that he pulls into a man bun most of the time, he sports a scruffy beard, and his closet is packed with flannels in every color.

  “Damn,” he grumbles, attempting to fight back a smug smile. “Can’t a man say hi?”

  “You didn’t say hi.” I divert my attention to Carolina. “You hungry? I ordered a pizza.”

  She worked a double today and is always hangry when she gets off work.

  She licks
her lips. “Yum. You da best.”

  I grin. “Well aware of that, babe.”

  She looks damn adorable when she strolls into the living room—wearing a loose, flower-patterned dress that isn’t made to look as sexy as it does on her. It shows a hint of cleavage, causing me to gulp as I remember the night in the hotel room.

  Fuck. Will I ever forget that night?

  She kicks off her white flip-flops on her way to the couch and takes the open seat next to me, tucking her legs underneath her ass. “How many levels do you need to finish? Are you still stuck?”

  I love that she asks this. Hardly anyone—except for her, my mother, my sister, and Josh—asks about my game. They’re the only ones who take it seriously and understand how important it is to me, how much I love it. Carolina has been on this game’s journey since nearly day one—hearing me throw out idea after idea, change shit, work on levels, and beg gamers to give it a try.

  She listens, understands, and offers advice about my game. Not too many chicks are comfortable with hanging out with a guy who plays video games as much as I do. Either that or they fake being into it, not even knowing the difference between my game and Fortnight.

  Carolina does because she genuinely cares.

  “I’m slowly getting out of my slump,” I reply, unpausing it and hitting buttons on the controller. “It was too easy, breaking through a few levels. I needed to make it harder.” I’ve been working nonstop for twelve hours, only taking bathroom and food breaks.

  Thank fuck Josh isn’t a big TV watcher. I like testing in the living room rather than my bedroom.

  “Attaboy! I’m so proud of you!” She gestures to the screen. “How you do all this—create, design, code. It’s so amazing.”

  I fasten my free arm around her back and drag her closer to my side. “Thanks, Mom.”

  She shoves my shoulder, causing my character to die. “Shut up and take my compliment.”

  “Looks like it’s easy to die when a chick is touching you,” Josh says from the chair next to me. “You have that going for you. Include a hot girl to distract them in every game.”