I sit there for an hour, cleaning away the winter debris from his gravesite and polishing his headstone. I used to come here weekly, but with planning the shop and the extremely cold winter, I haven’t been here in a month.
“I love you.” I climb to my feet. I back away, staring at his gravesite as a reminder of what I lost and my past. I know I need to move on, following the wishes Mitchell left behind for me.
“I will love you until my dying breath.”
“When are you seeing him again?” Roger never beats around the bush. He picks at a cupcake, eating the bottom before the top because he likes to save the best part until the end.
“Tomorrow. We’re having dinner.” I take the wrapper from his hand, trying to stay busy instead of focusing on our first real date.
We told each other pizza the other night counted, but we both knew it was a lie. I wasn’t nervous, knowing we were only friends, even if the chemistry was off the charts and the attraction undeniable.
“Where’s he taking you?”
“He’s cooking.”
Roger’s eyes widen. “The man knows you’re a baker, right?”
I motion toward the kitchen, a place Angelo’s been in at least a half a dozen times. “Uh, yeah. I think he got the message.”
“I don’t cook for you.”
I snort. “You’re kind of a shit cook. You’re really great at picking the right restaurant, though.”
Roger hops up on the table, making himself comfortable. “What’s he making?”
I shrug and go on mixing the latest batch of blueberry frosting. “He said it’s a surprise.”
“Are you going to shave everything?”
I gawk at Roger. “Are we really having this conversation?”
He nods. “You need to be prepared for all possibilities. Hell, get a Brazilian.”
I point the spatula at him. The man falls to his knees if he gets a paper cut. “Why don’t you get the hair ripped off your asshole and then we’ll talk, ’kay?”
Roger shivers. “Men aren’t meant to be hairless.”
“Neither is my pussy, buddy. I’ll trim.”
“It’s not the seventies, babe. Bush is not in, and no man wants a mouth full of fur.”
I shoot him a look over my mixing bowl. “How would you know?”
He gags. “I know when I get a hair stuck in my throat, it takes everything in me not to hurl right on the man.”
“Wait.” I stop what I’m doing and give him my full attention. “Do guys have hairy dicks?”
He laughs. “I’ve seen a few, but when their shit isn’t manscaped and it’s a mess down there, it’s an immediate no for me.”
“So, you just walk away? Just like that?”
He licks the top layer of frosting from his cupcake and closes his eyes. “This shit is bananas.”
“It’s blueberry,” I correct him. “Answer my question.”
“I meant it’s amazing.”
“Roger.”
