He pays attention to the little things.
Leaves me notes inside coat pockets and bathroom drawers.
Remembers my favourite ice cream at Coles.
Never drinks at parties when I’m there.
And for the first time ever, somebody calls me ‘mine.’
“Have you met my boyfriend, Mark?” he asks proudly.
“How the hell did you score a hot country boy?” someone teases.
As if Olsen isn’t stunning himself.
“Wild luck, and a whole lot of patience,” he beams.
His eyes melt with pride as he turns to look at me.
“It wasn't luck that won me over,” I say. “It was your cute butt, obviously.”
“Damn, I knew it,” he sighs in defeat.
Our kiss is soft and tender, a shameless display of how we feel about each other.
A wolf whistle echoes from the other side of the pool.
But our friends are used to seeing it.
The two of us are inseparable.
We can’t keep our hands off each other, in public or at home.
With a sexual hunger this magnetic, it’s a wonder we bother to wear clothes at all.
???
Things are more awkward than ever in Franko's kitchen.
I submitted my three weeks written notice immediately.
I wasn't ready to tell Beth the real reason why.
She assumes my resignation is cos I’ve found a new job at a party hire company.
And I have, that part is true.
“Seems more fitting for an up and coming event planner,” she says over the phone.
“Valuable work experience, especially now that you're doing a bachelor's degree.”
But every remaining kitchen shift drags on for so long.
I can’t wait to leave this place.
Being in the same room as Porter and Sutton is brutal.
There’s nothing hidden abouttheiraffection for one another.
