Page 23 of Dirty Chef
Did he have to see that? Christ. I threw out the note under the bar and watched the two gentlemen leave.
“He also didn’t look me in the eye once,” I said.
Adam rolled his eyes and turned to the grill. “Like it’s the first time that has happened.”
Perhaps not, but this one had been a piece of work. At least he’d tipped well.
“Motherfuckers,” I heard Adam mutter.
I stifled a smile and took a sip of my water. My cramps were acting up again, and I’d lost my energy halfway through tonight’s service.
There was a slight lull, so I decided to take a quick break. The servers were handling everything on the floor, and no one wanted a new drink. After swallowing two painkillers, I brought out my phone and texted Adam something that was… Well, it wasn’t flirty. It was plain honesty.
I could use my emotional support human and Adam pillow after this shift.
He didn’t answer through a text for this one. Instead, after reading it, he gave me a hug from behind, a tight, long one, and murmured in my ear. “Midnight movie night when we’re done.”
I nodded and exhaled unsteadily.
Goddamn period. Everything made me emotional. Thankfully, I was on my last twenty-four hours.
* * *
I was the first one to leave once we’d closed. Everything hurt, and I couldn’t keep up with the charade. Or my mood swings, for that matter.
Although the button-down showing more cleavage had been worth it, I got rid of it as soon as I was in my room. I took a hot shower, my brain as much a mess as my stomach, and stayed under the spray long enough that I was fairly sure Adam had returned upstairs by the time I was done.
Ugh. One of those nights, I supposed. I felt vulnerable, weak, and dumb. And I was a coward. I’d jumped through so many hoops and taken every risk when it came to the restaurant, but when it came to Adam, I froze up. I didn’t dare take a single chance, mainly because we didn’t want the same things in the future.
On the other hand…what did I want the most? A child with someone I loved? Or no children, to be with the man I could barely breathe without.
I was optimistic enough to believe I could find someone. I’d like him. Maybe he’d work in an office here in town. We’d have some hobbies in common, and the sex would be okay. I would love him.
Then…then I’d head into work and see Adam. I’d see him—I’d see everything I’d ached for since I was fifteen.
On the off chance that he would want me…should I risk it all?
“Cazzo.” I stepped into a pair of panties and snatched up one of Adam’s T-shirts I might have stolen for particularly lonely nights, and then I walked out of my room.
Two things hit me at once. One, I’d left my room wearing way too little. Two, Adam was on the couch—with his pillow, his duvet, and food for us, and now I was gonna cry.
“I’m gonna cry,” I whimpered, fanning my face.
“Aw, baby, come here. Tell me what to do.”
I coughed around a sob, feeling utterly embarrassed, and walked over to the couch where I immediately buried myself under the duvet. “There’s nothing you can do but survive my hormonal roller coaster.”
And possibly keep calling me baby. And maybe love me forever.
Please?
He gathered me close and stayed in a seated position, and he patted his thigh. “My turn to scratch your head.”
I sniffled and wiped at my cheeks. He was so sweet. “Th-thank you.” I cleared my throat, making myself as comfortable as I could.
Adam handed me the heating pad, and I placed it under my tee and sighed a little at the warmth.
Once I was lying down, knees pulled up, duvet spread over me, I felt Adam’s fingers slide through my damp hair. The sensations caused me to shiver. My skin broke out in gooseflesh.
“Bad month, huh?” he murmured.
I nodded and closed my eyes. “You’re making it better, though.”
“That’s what I’m here for. Anything you want, name it.”
Oh. If only he knew.
And the thing was, he was bound to figure things out eventually. I wasn’t sure this was just cramps and period hormones. These past couple years had been the worst, and my façade was slipping. I couldn’t cling to the friendship much longer, no matter how much I needed it in my life.
The heating pad combined with Adam’s ministrations in my hair allowed me to relax more and more for every minute that passed. The cramps retreated into a dull ache. I wasn’t ready to eat, but I could unclench and breathe easier.
Worst-case scenario, I confessed my feelings to him, he didn’t reciprocate, and things were weird for some time. He was still Adam. A sweetheart to me. He would let me down gently and help me rescue the remains of our friendship. The truth would be out there. I would heal—after twelve thousand years.
