She points a finger at me. “That song is a classic. You’re not allowed to trash-talk it.”
“Classic or not, does he seriously have to blast that song at five thirty in the morning including weekends?”
“He works. That’s more than I can say for half the dudes you go out on dates with.”
“But—”
“No. No buts. Could he turn the music down? Sure, but you’re not allowed to fault him for making a living, especially when it involves teaching and making kids’ lives better.”
“You’re only saying that because he’s all buddy-buddy with your kid.”
“So?” She shrugs. “Now name something else that isn’t absurd.”
“Leo.”
“Aw, come on. Leave Leo out of this.”
I point to Dean, who’s still standing in line with Sam because this place is packed on a Sunday morning. “I can’t leave Leo out of this when he brought him here.”
“Leo is adorable.”
“He’s a turtle!”
“But—”
“An emotional support turtle!”
“Yes, but—”
“In a damn restaurant!”
Maya huffs. “You’re being a spoilsport.”
I glance back at Dean, who is now engaged in conversation with another customer about said turtle. They’re cooing at him like they would a baby. Leo’s eating up the attention because he’s as bad as his owner.
“He’s only doing it for attention.”
“Maybe the emotional support isn’t for him but for Leo? Did you ever think about that?”
“Did you ever think that’s the second most ludicrous thing to ever leave your facehole? Surpassed only by you telling me you can get Lyme disease by eating bad limes?”
“I saw it on Facebook!”
“Stay off Facebook!”
“But the drama…so addicting…” she murmurs. “Stop distracting me. We’re talking about actual, viable reasons for hating him.”
“He… He’s…”
“What?” She sits forward, brows raised, waiting for my response. “Attractive? Funny? Friendly? Good with kids? Has a steady job?”
“He steals my pie!”
She rolls her eyes again. “He does not.”
“Yes, he does. Intentionally. Every Sunday. It always happens.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I am not.”
“You sure about that?”
“I might be overstating it a bit, but you know I’m right about it happening often. We either get here too late and he’s already snagged it because it’s Sunday and the good pies always go fast on Sundays with people coming in and out after church taking them all—which is exactly why I want to meet early”—I give her a pointed look, and she shrugs sheepishly—“or he makes some futile excuse to trade whatever garbage he gets with Sam and your gullible little shithead buys it.”
“One, you can order without me.”
“I can’t. Then it’s not a true breakfast date. That’s you running into me when I already have my face stuffed full of pie.”
Ignoring me, she continues. “Two, there is no need for name-calling. Sam is not gullible.”
“He’s not? Because he believed he could get a fever from disco dancing on a Saturday night.”
“He did not. Besides, he’s just trying to be nice to his teacher—something you should be doing. Dean signed up to coach the football team this year, and your nephew likes football.”
“Your point? Sam isn’t my kid. I don’t have to kiss Dean’s ass for the sake of keeping the peace during the school year.”
“Huh. And here I thought you wanted to kiss Dean’s ass.”
“What’s that about my ass?”
ONE-CLICK TO KEEP READING
Other Titles by Teagan Hunter
ROOMMATE ROMPS SERIES
Loathe Thy Neighbor
Love Thy Neighbor
SLICE SERIES
A Pizza My Heart
I Knead You Tonight
Doughn’t Let Me Go
A Slice of Love
Cheesy on the Eyes
TEXTING SERIES
Let’s Get Textual
I Wanna Text You Up
Can’t Text This
Text Me Baby One More Time
INTERCONNECTED STANDALONES
We Are the Stars
If You Say So
HERE’S TO SERIES
Here’s to Tomorrow
Here’s to Yesterday
Here’s to Forever: A Novella
Here’s to Now
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Acknowledgments
This time, the acknowledgments section is solely for you, Reader.
I’m writing this in November 2020 and if you know…well, you know.
Though it consists of twelve months just like any other year, it seems far longer than that.
It’s been lonely and exhausting. Too many people have lost loved ones. Too many people have lost themselves. It’s a lot to take in. A lot to push through.
But we’re doing it. We’re all doing it. We’re moving forward, making the best of it. Thank you for giving me just a few hours of your attention. I truly hope that during these crazy unprecedented times, you’ve been able to find some love and laughter. And that maybe you even found some laughter between these pages.
I usually end all of my acknowledgments pages with the same thing: With love and unwavering gratitude.
Just know this year I mean it even more.
Thank you.
Teagan
About the Author
TEAGAN HUNTER is a Missouri-raised gal, but currently lives in South Carolina with her Marine veteran husband, where she spends her days begging him for a cat. She survives off of coffee, pizza, and sarcasm. When not writing, you can find her binge-watching Supernatural or One Tree Hill. She enjoys cold weather, buys more paperbacks than she’ll ever read, and never says no to brownies.