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Taz brings his fist to his mouth and coughs the word, “Asshole.”
I force my eyes from Avery’s belly to her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean because of that.” I awkwardly motion toward her elephant-sized midsection. “I’m single, but I’m not dating.”
She rubs a hand over her belly, triggering my brain to think of how little Miss Snorts-A-Lot would look pregnant. Fuck. I fail to stop myself from scanning the restaurant for her, but she’s gone.
Avery tears a piece of paper out of her notepad and sets it on the table with a pen. “Don’t worry. I’ve had enough of men to fill me up for a while. I saw you looking at Cheri, and it’s entirely possible that I saw her looking at you two earlier. If you want me to pass your number on, I will.”
My fingers twitch. I ball my fists, pressing them into my thighs. “Do you realize how old we are?”
Taz sets his hand over the paper and pen. Adrenaline courses through me, sparking possessiveness. What right do I have to tell him no?
Avery drags a finger over her belly. “Boys our age do this and run. You look like you have your shit together. Cheri’s a hard worker, the best baker in town—cherry desserts are her specialty—and she fills in as a waitress for extra cash. Works here and at Sugar D’s Donut Shop. It would do her good to have some fun if you know what I mean.”
Fun… cherry… I shouldn’t be having these thoughts.
Prez wrings his hands. “Fun? Don’t look at me unless Cheri wants to get married. My twin brother and I just found out we have to get wifed-up or Grandma rewrites her will.”
The mention of his grandma reminds me that our dad flew into town to scatter his mom’s ashes. I steal a glance at Cheri, who’s returned, and let her sunshine blast the thoughts of death from my mind.
“I think marriage would be a deal breaker for Cheri, which brings us to you.” Avery winks at Taz, stroking his ego, and he sits taller. Avery has no idea how easy it is to flatter him. I love my little brother, but he never passes up a chance to have fun. I don’t know how he compartmentalizes his life so easily.
Taz scribbles his info down, then slides the pen and paper toward me, raising an eyebrow. It might ruin me to see him with Cheri, but I’ve sworn off distractions. I shake my head.
“You want to think about it?” Avery asks me.
“Like I said, I don’t date.”
“When the right woman comes along, don’t be afraid to let your guard down, big guy.” Avery picks the pen and paper up, shoves them in her apron pocket, and walks away.
What does this pregnant teenager think she’s doing, matchmaking thirty-somethings with her barely-out-of-the-cradle friend?
And why am I considering walking over to Snorts-A-Lot and showing her how hard she’s making me? Absolutely not. I don’t date. And I certainly don’t fuck a teenager just because she’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
Two
Cheri
The mischievous smile on Avery’s face as she enters the break room causes my hand to stop midway to grabbing my coat. “I’ve got to get to roller derby practice, but what are you up to?”
She hands a small paper to me while biting her lower lip.
I read what appears to be a name and phone number, but the name is Taz. Not a good sign. Avery needs someone stable, not someone nicknamed after a devil. “What’s this?”
“A favor.” I try to hand it back to her, but she cradles her belly with both hands.
“What kind of favor?” I shrug my coat on, still holding the paper.
“I saw you staring at the guys who rolled in on the motorcycles. I also saw them staring at you. It’s my last day of work and I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Was I that obvious? Is this why she was at their table so long? She was talking to them about me? The world sways a little before I gather my thoughts, but they’re too fleeting to stay in my grasp. A strange feeling works its way through me. It’s light and giddy and tingly.
“Avery…” I draw out her name. She’s been on my case about working too hard. She’s not wrong, but her pregnancy is proof of how quickly life can take a detour. That’s why I’m using my time to bake my heart out while saving up money so I can move out of my mom’s house. Living on my own seems scary, but I need to learn to take care of myself.
And not just financially. My mom and I have possibly gotten too used to hanging out with each other. Someday I might want to get married, and I don’t want to be worried Mom will take it too hard.
“Taz is the smiley one with the five-o’clock shadow and a shit-ton of casual-sexy.” She taps the paper that’s still in my hand. “And I don’t want to jump to incorrect conclusions, so I’ll let you know that the guy who came in last is looking for a wife. I told him you weren’t interested.”
“What is wrong with you?” I ask, with too much excitement.
