Thankfully, my sister is parking the shiny white BMW next to my rusty gold Celica and the three of us are able to get all of the cheesecakes in one trip.
“Mitch is here alone,” Misty whispers when we’re both behind the bar, pouring glasses of water for everyone.
“So?”
“So isn’t that weird?”
I look over the bar out to the tables and focus on the one Mitch is sitting at. He’s sitting beside Jagger, who did bring a date along, that Jessa girl. Maverick is also solo woman-wise, but he brought a friend. The entire room is filled with athletes and coaches though, so I guess they’re all friends.
“Well, you always said Mitch’s first love was baseball. I guess that hasn’t changed.”
“You’re right. I thought that was just an excuse he made to get rid of me,” she says softly.
“I don’t think anyone would ever want to get rid of you.” I set my hand over hers and squeeze it. “And if they do, they’re crazy.”
“True.” She smiles and looks over at their table again. “Who’s the girl Jag’s with?”
“Jessa.”
“I take it we don’t like her?” Misty laughs.
“What makes you say that?”
“The way you just said her name like she’s gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe.”
“She’s the one we walked in on him with.”
“Ohhhh.” Misty frowns slightly. “I vaguely remember that.”
“You were drunk.” I laugh. “Anyway, they hook up a lot.”
“You walked in on them again?”
“No. God no. I just know.”
“Hm.”
“Whatever.” I shrug. “Not my problem.”
“But you care.” She shoots me a look. “I can tell you care.”
“I don’t care. Why would I care?”
“Maybe you like him. I mean, he’s pretty irresistible and to be living with him? You’re bound to develop some kind of feelings for him.”
“Besides annoyance?”
“You keep telling yourself that, Jo.” Misty laughs as she lifts the tray with waters.
I do the same with the tray beside it and ignore her comment because I truly don’t care and I have absolutely no feelings for him. We split up and place waters in front of everyone at the tables. When I get to the table where Jagger is sitting, I make it a point to avoid all eye contact, which is hard. He’s wearing a black suit and has brushed his hair to the side and looks so fucking hot. I hate myself for thinking it.
“Hey, you’re Lawrence Fisher’s girlfriend,” one guy says.
“Ex-girlfriend,” Jagger answers for me. I shoot him a look that says mind your business.
“Shit, you guys broke up?” The guy raises an eyebrow. “He’s about to get paid.”
“He’s a piece of shit,” Jagger says. “Fuck him and his millions.”
The guy starts cackling. I walk away quickly.
“What was that about?” Misty asks when we’re back behind the bar.
“Nothing.” I keep my gaze on Jagger’s profile wishing he’d look at me so I can flip him off. He doesn’t look. Jessa sets a hand on his shoulder though and I find myself silently seething.
“Girls. Pick up the pace. The salads should be out there by now,” Uncle Adrian says.
My sister and I go to the kitchen and start setting salad plates on the trays and walk out one behind the other. This time, we both start on the same side of the restaurant. There are only seven tables occupied and the salad plates are pretty small. Uncle Adrian has two guys from the kitchen setting the bread down on each table as we do this. When we reach the Cruz brothers’ table, Misty and I freeze momentarily and look at each other. It’s an unspoken understanding. She doesn’t want to serve Mitch and even though I haven’t explained the full situation of Jagger and me, Misty knows I don’t want to be near him either. We switch places and I take Mitch’s side while she takes the other. I lower my empty tray and start heading to the back when a hand closes around my forearm and stops me. My skin prickles. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him, but when I do turn around slowly and find myself staring into his toffee-colored eyes, my pulse starts zapping inside me like I’m being electrocuted.
“Do you need something?”
He lets go of my arm and smiles lazily. “I just wanted to remind you about our agreement.”
“What agreement?” My eyes bounce from him to Jessa beside him, who’s doing a good job at pretending not to pay attention, and back to him.
“Cheesecake.”
“Oh.” I let out an awkward laugh. “Sure. Yeah, I totally got you.”
The edge of his mouth lifts as he watches me walk away. It takes me the entirety of my walk to calm down. That’s fifteen whole steps. There’s a reason I don’t tell my sister about my reactions to him. For starters, I never told her we hooked up. I tell my sister mostly everything, but I didn’t tell her that. Secondly, she’d laugh at me and I wouldn’t blame her. I mean, how could I have this response to a man I live with but am not with? It’s ridiculous.