“You sure? Mitch makes the best burgers.” I glance back over to the grill where Roxy and Mitch are still going at it while Bronx takes the burgers off.
“I’ll take a drink,” I suggest instead.
“What will it be?” I follow Joey over towards one of the coolers and he pops the lid. “Let me guess, lemonade?” he teases as he reaches down and grabs one of the small bottles. I’m surprised they have it because the only other thing in the cooler is beer and a few bottles of water. I’m addicted to these little lemonades that are an off-brand and only sold at one gas station around town. I don’t care if it’s freezing cold out, I still want ice-cold lemonade and this is the only one that I like. My dad used to tease me that we should buy stock in it because I single-handedly keep them in business.
I take it from his hand and try to twist the cap. Sometimes they can be difficult to open and other times they pop right off.
“Let me.” Joey reaches to take the lemonade back from me, but right as I begin to hand it to him another hand reaches out and grabs it from my hold. I don’t have to look to know whose hand it is. The tattoo that runs up his tanned arm gives him away.
“I got it.” Bronx’s rough voice is so deep it sounds like a growl.
“Hi to you too.” I force a smile.
I really have no reason to be rude to Bronx. He’s good to me, just not in the ways I want him to be. That’s something I need to work on. It isn’t his problem but it eats me up inside. He twists the lid and opens my drink easily.
“Little overdressed for a barbeque,” he says and I stand there shocked, unsure if I heard him right.
Bronx stares down at me and even in my four-inch wedges he towers over me. I snatch my drink out of his hand and wonder if the comment was really necessary. He could have just said hi and left it at that.
“Gem—” He starts to say something but Roxy cuts him off with a hard punch to his shoulder.
“The fuck?” she snaps at him before I can. “Why are you being a dick? Maybe she’s got a date later.” She grabs my arm and pulls me away from Bronx.
“Well, he looks pissed,” I tell her as we make our way over towards the food table. I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know he’s still watching us because I can feel it. “You can’t hit your boss,” I remind her. “Even if he’s being a dick.” What the hell is wrong with what I’m wearing?
I’m dressed up a little more than normal because of the interviews I had today, but it isn’t uncommon. I enjoy doing it and it’s the way I make a living. My dad always told me to do what I love and that’s what I’m trying to do. Bronx’s words hurt more than I should allow them to, but I can’t help it.
“He had that coming.” Roxy glares back to where Bronx is standing, not giving a crap that she’s giving her boss an evil death glare.
“It’s fine,” I lie, because it isn’t fine. This was a mistake.
I was going to come over here and show Bronx what he was missing and then move on. I want to facepalm myself that I thought I could do it. I’ve wanted him since I could understand what that meant and he’s been the only one I’ve ever had eyes for.
“I needed this.” I’m not sure if I’m reassuring her so she’s not mad, or myself. There’s never going to be a Bronx and me, and I have to come to terms with that.
“Did you have to tell him I had a date? I think he’ll know it’s a lie unless I pretend to leave my place later.” I half laugh because my pride would probably make me. What would I do? Go roam around the mall and catch a movie by myself? Wow, that sounds pathetic.
“I’ll get you a date.” Roxy’s voice is determined and I almost choke on my lemonade. Roxy’s been holding a torch for Bronx and me to get together from the first time she met us. Now she’s all for setting me up with someone else? “Gemma, come on. There isn’t a single guy in this shop that wouldn’t take you on a date.”
She rolls her eyes at me as I look at all the men milling around. Some are cute and maybe even hot, but Bronx is the only one that ever caught my attention. That might be the problem. I should be looking elsewhere, but my eyes go to Bronx. He looks livid as he stares at me. Mitch is standing in his path to us with his hand out. It looks like he’s trying to stop him from coming over here.