“Ouch. That doesn’t look fun.”
“Eh, I’ve had worse.”
“You’re a professional MMA fighter. I don’t doubt that.”
She set all three of our hands down on the table but didn’t let go of me. I didn’t pull my hand away either, enjoying the feeling of her touching me without provocation.
“Well, it’s not like your job is injury free and easy.”
She smiled demurely at that, pulling one of her hands away long enough to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear before returning it to my own. “Nothing easy is worthwhile.”
“I dunno, I think Michelle would fight to the death to defend her Easy-Bake Oven’s honor.”
She snorted and it was just the cutest thing. “Please, have you ever used one of those? It takes, like, a mechanical degree and a whole lot of patience just to get it to cook a stupid little cookie.”
“Well that’s not how the commercial made it seem.”
“Okay, so this may come as a huge surprise to you, but commercials often lie.”
I raised my eyebrows in mock shock. “Surely that must be illegal!”
“’Fraid not. Everything you know is a lie.”
“Well I’ll be damned.”
We shared a chuckle and I was all sorts of excited for the conversation to keep going. Despite sleeping with each other twice and filming together for a week, most of our conversations hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes. The wedding was really it, and that had only been a couple of hours before we’d both been tipsy and pawing at each other.
However, the waitress came over and Amber quickly pulled her hands away, as if she was embarrassed. I tried not to take it personally, but I wondered why she was concerned what our server thought.
I didn’t want to ask her, however, and risk breaking the mood, so instead I just rolled with it, ordering myself a water and a beer. Amber ordered the same before I added the sampler platter. When it was around weigh in time for fights, I had to stick to a pretty specific diet. But since I didn’t have anything on the docket, I was going to let myself pig out.
“And do you two know what you would like for your meals?”
“That’ll take me a moment,” I said with a grin, giving the server a wink. She giggled and ducked her head, scurrying off to put our drinks and appetizer in.
“Since when were you so smooth with women?” Amber asked, eyebrow raised. It was something we’d both done since our teens after watching way too much wrestling with Michelle, and everyone at school had had their own theories about who was copying who. It pleased me that she still had the same habit, like I had permanently marked her life or something.
“I’ve always been smooth with women,” I countered, leaning back against the vinyl cushions of the booth. And it was true. Ever since I hit puberty, girls had noticed my tall build and strong jaw. Sure, I had been a bit scrawnier as a teen, but I’d always had that boyish charm.
Just never with Amber. I’d heard people complain occasionally about being in the friendzone, but I remember wishing I could even get to that level of closeness, because it was always so very clear that I was firmly, steadfastly in the brotherzone, which was ten times worse.
But also, not worse at all. After about a solid year of teenage pining, I’d come to terms with the fact that Amber would never see me that way and I’d contented myself with being her protector. An anchor for her in her turbulent life. I’d helped her Aunt clean the house or do especially strenuous chores that the hard-working single parent was too exhausted to do. I helped her with her homework if she needed it. I would take her and Michelle junk food shopping behind our parents’ back when it was time for one of their many, many sleep overs.
Aunt Trisha really did try to do her best for Amber, but she hadn’t exactly been prepared to take a fledgling teenager in when her brother dropped the ball so badly. I had been happy to be there for her, and to make sure Amber’s belly was always full when she returned home to her guardian. The lot of us had gotten real close, which was probably why I didn’t call her Ms. Shelstien. No, it was either Aunt or Auntie Trisha and that was it.
Huh, I hadn’t talked to her in at least a year or so. I should really check in.
“What’re you thinking about?” Amber asked, cocking her head to the side ever so slightly curiously.
“Just that I should give Aunt Trish a call,” I answered honestly. I didn’t see any reason to lie to her. “I’ve kinda let this whole MMA thing sweep me up. Let too many things drop.”