Part 9

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“I don’t think I can do this,” I said making a face as Riley plopped down on the seat across from me at Starbucks and placed a cup of peppermint mocha on the table.

“I don’t exactly find this enjoyable either,” he replied, wincing at the green tea frappe I ordered for him. “But you said I’m your peppy mocha. So I have to know what I mean to you.”

I took the nasty drink in my hands, took a tentative sip and immediately recoiled in disgust.

“THAT’S what I mean to you?!” Riley exclaimed, pretending to look hurt.

I laughed.

“Now you know,” I said. “Your turn.”

He stared down at the green tea frappe and licked his lips nervously. He cracked his knuckles and bent his head from side to side, failing to make stretching noises with his neck.

I rolled my eyes at him, but kept the amused smile on my face.

He took a sip, swallowed, and looked straight at me with a straight on poker face.

“Well?” I asked.

“That. Was. Horrible.” He replied in a dead monotone, and finally allowed his face to contort in revulsion.

“Weirdo,” I chuckled. “Switch.”

We swapped drinks and I happily drank down my favorite drink as he did, his.

“So, are you free this Saturday?” Riley asked as he bit down on his straw.

“Hmm. Two dates in a week? Someone’s getting clingy,” I teased.

“Says the girl who called me up at three am last night,” he countered with a smug smile.

“Did I really? I must’ve been sleep calling,” I replied with a dismissive wave of my hand. “So anyway, what’s on Saturday?”

“We’re doing a benefit show at the community center and I would love to see my girlfriend in the front row,” he said as he flashed me with one of his heart melting smiles.

“You have a girlfriend?” I asked, feigning shock and ignoring the butterflies that suddenly appeared in my stomach.

In the two weeks that passed since he asked me to be his “Nutella” on that rooftop deck, we never really mentioned the B and G word.

This would be the first.

“I don’t know,” Riley looked down at his drink with a nervous smile as his cheeks slowly started to turn red. He looked back up at me. “Do I?”

I tried to hide my smile but the expression on his face was priceless.

“I thought you had a jar of the world’s best choco-hazelnut spread,” I mused, staring straight back into his eyes.

“But who better to share that choco-hazelnut spread with than…”

“Your girlfriend?”

“You.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“I don’t know. Is it?”

“It is.”

His face broke out into the biggest smile. “So, Saturday?”

“Sure,” I replied, taking a sip of my drink to calm my poor heart.

“The show starts at two, but our set starts at two thirty,” Riley said, still smiling.

“Okay,” I replied, unable to stop myself from smiling too.

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