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"If you want to ruin individuality, have at it. But don't expect me to play along."
Angelo sighed. He took off his glasses and rubbed the rims with theatrical patience. "Juniper, we love you. You know that. If you're not okay with this, we can hold off till the next meeting. But you're letting the kids get away with too much. This is still an institution, and—"
"Institutions have rules," I finished for him. "I know, and I'm all for the ones that don't terrorize kids into conforming to ridiculous expectations that harm their creativity."
Angelo looked at me. I returned his gaze squarely.
He smiled reluctantly. "Very well, then."
It felt like I'd managed to scratch a very proverbial itch. I marched out of the meeting room without looking back.
Once work ended, I headed back home. It was a quiet day, and in my experience, that was a good day.
I did feel very skittish, though. It could have been the adrenaline from the meeting or how my thoughts kept returning to Reed and his roommates.
Since I'd taken up a job and gotten really invested in cooking on the side, I'd always been a busy girl.
Relationships were never really my thing, barring the few friends who stuck around. In my experience, loved ones had a tendency to disappear.
And for years through college and sharing closeted spaces with multiple people, I'd thought I'd enjoy the peace that came with living alone.
I just couldn't take my mind off them. Not just Reed. Reedandthe other two. And I felt like I'd suddenly become my own social experiment—a girl who'd apparently gone so far off the deep end that she suddenly craved the company of not one but three men.
I could see him standing by my front door. For a man who was supposed to be this busy, he sure did make time for me.
That was sweet.
It was also a wee bit suspicious, but I had a profound inclination to think the worst of everyone right from the get-go.
Maybe that was why none of my relationships had lasted.
"Hey," I said, easing my lips into a smile as I got closer. "What's up?"
"I wondered if you'd have some time on your hands," he replied sheepishly.
"I wanted to learn a bit of cooking from you. The weekend's coming, and I want Leia to eat at home. I want us to have more conversations. I want to be her dad and not some bloke she keeps calling Reed."
Well, that touched my heart. At least the man was making an effort, unlike the father I'd never had.
I nodded and opened the door. We walked in. "Lemme make you some tea first. It's way too hot."
We finished a whole pitcher of sweet tea between the two of us.
Reed looked past the balcony, down toward the place where the alley met the main road, and exhaled. "I think I've been a shit father to Leia."
"Why?"
His brows rose. "I was never there for her. Y'know. With my job, I traveled so much I missed all her firsts. I didn't see her gettin' born. I couldn't be there for her first birthday or to even hear her say ‘Dad'. Matter o' fact, I don't remember the last time she called me anything but my first name."
I put my glass down on the table. "Well, my mama always says one thing. You can win over any man with your cooking, but you know what's the test of a really good cook?"
He shook his head.
"Watching a finicky teenager lick their plate clean."
"How do you even do that? She ate the sandwich last night, by the way. I'd totally give you a Nobel for that if it were up to me."
"What category?"
