That’s when I realize where we actually are.
I gasp, then spin in my seat, looking out behind us. Right there is Double Cake, the bakery and coffee shop that I’m currently obsessed with and where I try to drag Ayla and Matty whenever possible.
“Joey, that’s my favorite bakery,” I say, pointing, then turn and grab his hand. “Joey, their pie! You have to try it!”
He doesn’t pull his hand away from me, so I don’t let go, either. I’m doing a really horrible job at self-control here. I’m supposed to be acting chill, and all this boyfriend behavior I’m pulling might just end up driving him away. He’s been clear about what he wants, and surprise kisses and pie dates are not it.
But I see the way Joey smiles whenever I grab his hand. I can tell myself one thing when we’re apart, but when we’re together again, I just want to feel him and talk to him and smell him and—
“Your favorite bakery, huh?” he says, pulling me from my thoughts, then glances in his rearview mirror. “I guess I did get us stuck in a parking spot.”
And just like that, Joey and I spin ourselves straight into a proper date.
* * *
Joey
Shit, Milo’s got me on a date.
I don’t remember the last time I did something like this. Adrian and I were closeted, so we never went out for dinner or a movie or anything like that, and I haven’t dated any women since just after high school.
I’m not surprised, though, that Milo’s got me here.
Anyone else, I would have just driven off. Hell, I can barely think of a person I’d offer a ride to in the first place, especially not with a full day of errands I should be taking care of. I fucking hate delaying errands, but here I am.
I push the door to the bakery open for him, and Milo brushes past me. He’s wearing his puffy red jacket unzipped, smiling widely, and a big teal tote bag hangs from his shoulder. In my black jacket, black jeans, and gray sweatshirt, I catch myself rolling my sleeves up, just to flash some of the color of my ink.
The place is nice, kind of like an old diner, but very small, with a few booths and some stools up by the windows. There aren’t many people, so we head straight to the big display of desserts, with all kinds of cakes and pies and stuff I don’t know the names for, and then muffins and rolls and bread.
“You said the pie’s good?” I ask Milo.
“I’m going for the blueberry. I already decided.”
I grunt. “That sounds good. I’ll do the same.”
Milo turns and looks at me, an expression on his face like he’s horrified.
“What?” I ask with a chuckle.
“We can’t get the same thing, Joey. We’re supposed to get two different things.”
I wrinkle my brow. There’s some old rock song on the speakers from the sixties, and the guitar twangs while I stare at Milo. “Why not?” I finally ask.
Milo rolls his eyes like I’m clueless. “Because it’s more fun when there’s two different pies,” he says, like it’s totally obvious.
“You think you’re getting to try my dessert, don’t you?” I frown, kind of messing with him just for fun and because it sounds hot to make him squirm a little, like when he was first all nervous at the tattoo shop. Instead, though, Milo sees right through me and laughs.
“I’m changing my order to apple pie,” he teases, spinning to the counter. “We’ll see if you get any.”
I smile to myself and stay back while Milo orders, but when he’s done, I lean forward and pay. It doesn’t help the confused emotions in my head, and the second I cut in to do it, I realize I’ve made this even more of a date. But it doesn’t really matter because every fiber in my body says that I should treat him, and so I do.
We find seats at a wooden table, two pieces of pie and a couple of cups of coffee in front of us. “I’ve been so busy, I haven’t been here in a month,” Milo tells me. “Thanks again for coming in.”
I drink from my mug of black coffee. “I’ve got the time,” I tell him, which isn’t really true.
Milo points over my shoulder. “Do you see that sign?”
I crane my neck to look, shifting in the seat, but I don’t see any sign. “What are you talking about?”
