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“You want something? My treat,” I tell her, but she ignores me.
A passing waiter hands me a menu but I ask if I can just have some coffee, which I recall is free. Reminding me that I’m not exactly in a position to buy anyone anything right now, least of all breakfast.
I never even spoke to mom about money before she left.
I think Suze knows that too.
“You’re up early,” I continue, trying to lighten the mood.
Suze turns to face me. She looks awful. Like she’s been up half the night and crying.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the restroom mirror earlier.
I’ve had no sleep at all either but I feel and look like a new person.
I’m actually smiling for a change.
“Can we just skip the bullshit?” she says in a low voice, sniffling before turning away again.
Feeling my smile fade I puff my cheeks and blow out a breath of air silently, fighting the sudden urge to drum my fingers.
This is going way worse than I thought.
My coffee arrives, and I drink it even though it’s a little too hot.
It tastes amazing and looking past my best friend, the sun rising over the mountains looks as if I’m seeing it for the first time.
The world just looks better, tastes better, and definitely feels better.
Even though I left Michael sleeping, I know he didn’t sleep a wink last night either, trying so hard not to crush me during the night. Not that we actually slept a lot.
I just wish my bestie would be happy for me instead of acting out.
I need to fix this before Michael wakes up. Before Suze and I get home.
As if thinking about the man has some magic behind it, I can hear his deep voice further away wishing someone a good morning as he orders breakfast for our table.
Suze groans, and clicking her tongue with a dirty glance in Michael’s direction, she makes to leave.
“Suze, wait,” I plead, reaching out for her arm but thinking better of it.
“Wait for what? Another installment of look how fucking great I am starring you two? I don’t think so,” she says dryly, walking away before I can say another word.
The place where she sat is soon covered by Michael’s huge shadow, and I turn to face him.
He lifts me up for a hug, tilting his head to kiss me, but I turn my head, following Suzanna and opening my mouth to call after her.
“Uh,” Michael says, sounding apologetic. “I picked a bad time to make an entrance didn’t I,” he observes.
I shake my head and stand on tippy toes to peck his cheek.
“It’s not you, it’s Suzanna, and she’s pretty pissed,” I murmur, stating the obvious.
“And…” I continue, letting a finger drift from what I can reach of his face and neck, trailing down his front. “…I think you made a pretty darned good entrance,” I tell him, my body buzzing at the memory.
Making him smile once he realizes I’m not talking about him coming down to breakfast.
“It is me though,” he says. “Your friend there’s had it in for me since she figured out just how crazy I am about you.”
I sigh heavily, not wanting Suzanna to ruin what’s only started, but also not wanting to trouble Michael with my petty problems either.
“What can I do?” I ask absently.
What can I do?
Chapter Fourteen
Michael
I can handle Suzanna’s frosty reception.
Nowhere is it written that we have to like everyone we meet, and I’m no stranger to people who might not take a shine to someone as big as I am.
I usually get the stink eye from older guys though. Not people Suzanna’s age.
Natasha’s age.
It’s hard for me to see her as the same age as her friend. Natasha’s so… mature by comparison.
I can’t help but think what I’d do if the tables were turned and it was Natasha who hated me the way her friend does.
What would I have done if I’d met her and she didn’t like me?
I stop the thought before it evolves into something else.
That kind of thinking is dangerous and has no place in my mind next to Natasha.
“I think we should have our breakfast and leave her be for now,” I suggest. Hearing my stomach growl at the thought of food.
It sounds pretty unhelpful really, but I don’t feel like I should be telling Natasha how to handle her relationship with her best friend.
They’ve known each other their whole lives from what she’s told me. She’d know more about what to do with her friend than I would.
My advice appeals to Natasha though, and she even thanks me for it. Using it as an excuse to kiss me again, which I don’t mind at all.
But I can’t help feeling a little annoyed myself. That her so-called best friend would be going out of her way to show her disapproval.
