“Are you sure? You work and I’d hate for you to give up your free time as it is.”
My eyes betray me, lingering on his lips. I mentally snap out of it and wave my hand again dramatically. “It’s okay, truly. We can meet on Saturdays here. You can work on your homework, and I can check in when you need me if there are no orders.”
Tyler gazes at me but I can’t read his expression. “I owe you.”
I cross my arms as I lean back against the booth. I smirk, “Get in line.”
Tyler snorts at my response. “You have a line? Any way to cut the line and be first?”
“Slow your roll.” I laugh nervously while shaking my head wildly fast so he can’t see the sweat beads forming on my forehead. I turn my head back to the counter and notice Dylan walking up and surveying the empty dining area.
Planting both hands on his hips, he says, “Hey Ser, I don’t think anyone is going to come in. You should head home.”
I fist bump gently to myself so Dylan doesn’t see, making Tyler chuckle quietly.
I clock out on the register and grab my tote bag. I pull out my phone to shoot a quick text to Jared. To my surprise, he already texted me letting me know he can’t pick me up because Beckham had an extra ticket for the concert that’s happening nearby. He apologized profusely knowing this means I’ll have to ask Alli or Ralph for a ride home, but he promised he’d make it up to me.
I smile to myself and click my tongue. I swipe a text back to Jared telling him it’s okay and for him to show me videos of the concert later.
“Everything okay?” Tyler pipes up. He’s not sitting at the booth but standing on the other side of the counter.
I stash my phone back in my bag. “Yeah, Jared was my ride home. Seems like he’s at that concert.”
“Good thing I’m here.” Tyler suddenly bows to me like I’m the Queen. “I can drive you home.”
“Tyler,” I tug on my tote bag, looking down at my shoes. “I can’t.”
“How are you going to get home?”
“I can take the bus.”
“Like hell you are.”
Before I can protest further, he grabs my bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I’m taking you home. Don’t fight me on it, please?”
I rock back on my heels. “Okay.” I trail behind him as we walk out of Boba Republic, heading for his car that’s shining under the streetlamps.
Same as last time, he opens the passenger door for me and waits for me to hop in.
“I can open the door myself, you know?”
“I know.”
I scoff at his response and climb in. Tyler sets my bag by my feet and jogs over to the driver’s seat. He starts the car but before he puts it in reverse, he glances at me and the LED screen on the dash. “Wanna DJ?”
I’m embarrassed that he’s asking me this, knowing that he saw myhopeless romanticplaylist the other day.
I reach down for my phone, “Sure.” After a few taps, I’m connected to his car’s Bluetooth. I’m thinking of what playlist to choose from as I’m scrolling down Spotify. There’s only one that catches my eye and I grin in satisfaction. The perfect playlist.
Double take by dhruv plays softly throughout his car as Tyler drives out of the parking spot. “I love this song.” He looks over at me with a smile, one hand on the wheel and the other casually propped on the side of the door. “What’s the playlist called?”
“Don’t laugh.”
“I promise.” Tyler holds out his pinky like we’re children who are making a sacred deal amongst each other. “Scout’s honor.”
I take his pinky in mine and we lock it before I say, “It’s called, um,vroom vroom mothafucker.”
Tyler raises a brow. Just when I think he might actually laugh at me, the corners of his lips curve up and his eyes twinkle in amusement. “A+ name.”
