I look up to see Benny striding into the cafe. He’s dressed in his bright red delivery man uniform, and carrying a massive box in his arms. I watch as he passes it over the counter to one of the employees. She blushes and bats her eyes at him, leaning closer to mutter a few words in his ear, but he ignores her, focussing his gaze on me.
I smile, waving him over to our table. “I didn’t know you delivered here.”
“I deliver everywhere, babe. I’m well known for my packages.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.
“Ew, wow, super gross.” I stand up and let him sweep me into a bear hug.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” he accuses, pulling back and pushing some hair behind my ears. “Where have you been?”
“Sorry. It’s been crazy. I’ve got a new job. With, uh, Jack, actually.” I wave at Jack, who’s sitting frozen in his seat. “You might remember him. He lives in my building.”
Benny’s eyes widen. He stares between the two of us. “I see. Hey, do I owe you a pizza?”
“I’m pretty sure you do.”
He grins. “Good girl.” He reaches over and offers Jack his hand. “Benny. Nice to meet you. Cute kid.”
“Yeah,” Jack says, his voice cool as he shakes Benny’s hand. “She is.”
Benny turns back to me, tucking my bra strap under my shirt. “Hey, I was thinking, you wanna go out with me this weekend? I just met someone who works at a club in Soho. Don’t really wanna go alone.”
I translate that to please wingwoman for me so I have an excuse to stalk/fuck this girl/guy.
I shrug. “I could do with a night out.”
“Sweet.” His phone beeps, and he checks it, grimacing. “I’m running behind. But call me, okay? Love you.”
“Aww, thanks.”
He narrows his eyes. “I love you,” he repeats pointedly.
“You’re my number one guy.”
“I love you so much,” he insists.
“Couldn’t survive without you.”
He groans. “One of these days, I’ll make you say it.”
I smile. It’s a running joke between us that I never say that I love him. It’s not personal; I never say I love you to anyone. I haven’t since I made the decision to stop dating a few years ago.
I know it’s stupid. But I have a ninety-nine-percent track record of people I love leaving me. Parents. Grandparents. Foster parents. Boyfriends. Friends. Benny is the only person I have left. I don’t want to jinx it.
He nods to Jack. “Nice to meet you, man. See you around.”
“Bye, man,” Jack says, his voice bright and fake-sounding. I wave as Benny leaves, then turn back to the dregs of my hot chocolate, smiling slightly.
“I’ve seen him with you in the lobby,” Jack says casually.
I nod, trying to spoon up a mini marshmallow. “He stays over sometimes.”
“Oh.” There’s a brief pause. “So, are you two…”
It takes me a second to work out what he’s asking. I burst out laughing. “Oh my God, no. He’s my brother.”
He blinks. “Brother?” I can see the disbelief on his face. “You look nothing alike. Was he adopted?”
My smile drops slightly. “Yeah, actually. He was. But, no, he’s my foster brother.”
“You’re adopted?”
“Nope,” I say lightly. “Just him.”
Jack doesn’t say anything, staring at me. The silence stretches out awkwardly as he puts together the pieces. He obviously doesn’t know what to say.
My cheeks burn. This, right here, is why I don’t like telling people about my childhood. It always makes things weird.
I clear my throat, standing. “Um, can you watch Cami for a sec? I need to go to the loo—”
Jack’s hand shoots out and wraps around my wrist, keeping me in place. “I have a crush on you,” he blurts out.
