Chapter One - What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

“Get out of my fucking face, Sky.” Curtis slurred at me as he tried – and failed – at shoving me out of the way of the stairs. His brown eyes glazed over with the whites of his eyes tinged red, his dark hair ruffled. It was clear to me he had just gotten home from spending the whole night on a bender doing who knows what.

“I wasn’t in your face to begin with, you’re wasted. Go to bed.” I quickly shut the door behind me, wanting to avoid any more confrontation with my brother. Mother was slumped on the couch, the yelling didn’t wake her at all. Must’ve taken too many muscle relaxers. I fumbled to get my keys out of my purse as I walked to my car, stray purple strands of hair poking into my eye.

Rolling down the windows and turning the stereo to full blast, I began my usual commute to work. I must’ve lost track of the drive because one moment I was leaving my little townhouse and the next I was parked in front of Josie’s Pizzeria & Grill. Once again mentally preparing for the shitshow I knew I was about to walk into.

I put my hair back and tied on my black and red checkered bandana. I grabbed my knife set, let out one final exhale from my vape and walked in.

“Well look who showed up on time for once!” I was met with a shit-eating grin. The grin led to espresso-colored eyes and curly brunette hair. For a second, my eyes traveled to his lips. “Party hard and work harder, that’s all you do isn’t it short-shit?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Adrian?” I mused as I began unpacking my knives.

“Trust me, hot stuff, I don’t think I want to know what goes on in that head of yours.”

“Good. Saves me the trouble of explaining it.”

Adrian chuckled, shaking his head before turning back towards his station. “You’re in a particularly pleasant mood today.”

“And you’re particularly annoying. Looks like we’re both consistent.” I retorted, holding back a chuckle myself.

“Admit it…you’d miss me if I wasn’t here.”

“I’d throw a fucking party.”

“You’d have to invite me.”

I rolled my eyes, reaching for my apron. Unfortunately, he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Let’s just get through service.”

The rest of the evening passed in its usual blur of tickets, angry patrons, and enough dishes to make me question every career decision I’d ever made. As quickly as the shift started, it was ending and I was finishing the expo on our last ticket with Adrian hovered over me like a child waiting to ask for a snack.

“You know…” He started, drawing out the words. “You look pretty decent when you’re not yelling at everyone.”

I was quick to glance over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Careful. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He leaned against the counter, watching me place the microgreens on top of our Chilean sea bass. “Are you always this difficult?”

“Only when you’re around.” I pushed the plate to the pass and yelled out “Hands!” for the last time of the night.

“Lucky me,” he muttered under his breath.

By the time closing rolled around, my feet were killing me and I was more than ready to get the hell out of there. I finished wiping down my station, grabbed my things and began to head towards the back exit.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?”

I turned to find Adrian leaning against the doorway, already changed out of his uniform.

“Didn’t realize I needed your permission,” I responded dryly.

“Not saying you do. Just thought, you know…you’d wanna say goodbye to your favorite coworker.”

“You’re certainly somebody’s favorite. Couldn’t tell you whose.” When we walked out of the building I noticed my black Challenger was the only car left. “Where’s your whip? How are you getting home?”

“Shop’s had it for a couple days.” Adrian shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Apparently, fixing one thing means finding three more things wrong with it.”

I laughed, unlocking my car. “Sounds expensive.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“And you couldn’t figure out a ride before closing?”

“Would you believe me if I said I forgot?”

“Knowing you…yeah. Just shut up and get in before I change my mind.”

He laughed, opening the passenger door. “See, I knew you liked me.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Somewhere between the restaurant and his neighborhood, the conversation shifted away from work. I found myself learning little things about him that I’d never bothered to ask before. His music preferences, the places he’d been, the things he did outside the restaurant. How he enjoyed passing time and the hobbies he was passionate about like playing guitar.

It was strange how someone could spend so much time around you without actually knowing about them, having worked with him for a couple years at this point. By the time I pulled into his neighborhood, I realized I hadn’t minded the drive nearly as much as I’d expected.

“Same time tomorrow?” He asked, reaching for the door handle.

I let out a forced sigh. “Unfortunately.”

And there it was again – that shit-eating grin. “See you tomorrow, hot stuff.”

“Get out of my car, Adrian.”

His laughter followed him as he shut the door and replayed in my head as I drove myself home.

For the next few months, I found myself pulling into the employee parking lot with considerably less enthusiasm than I’d had the night before. Another shift. Another eight hours of tickets, impatient customers, and listening to Adrian run his mouth. And apparently another day of pretending I hadn’t thought about him more than I should’ve. Speaking of the devil… I barely made it through the back entrance before I heard his voice.

“Look at you, showing up just in time to save the place.”

I glanced over to find him leaning against the expo counter, a familiar grin already spreading across his face. His eyes flickered over me, quick enough to pretend it meant nothing, lingering just long enough for me to notice – and for something low in my stomach to tighten. “Were you worried I wouldn’t?”

“Worried? No.” He scoffed. “Why do you look so disappointed?”

I reached for my apron. “I don’t. This is just my face when I’m forced to tolerate you.”

“Funny. I remember it looking a lot more interested yesterday.”

My fingers paused halfway through tying my apron. For half a second, the kitchen noise seemed to recede beneath the weight of his stare. I gave him a flat look, though my pulse had already started misbehaving. “You remember a lot for someone who spends most of his time admiring himself in reflective surfaces.”

He placed a hand on his hip and pretended to motion a hair flip. “Jealous?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Of your ego? I’d need a prescription.”

His grin widened, but something warmer flickered behind it. He pushed away from the counter, just enough to close the distance by an inch. “Careful, hot stuff. That almost sounded like flirting.”

“Careful, Adrian. That almost sounded like wishful thinking.”

“Same thing, depending on how badly you want me.”

The words landed with more force than they should have. Heat crept up the back of my neck, spreading beneath my collar, and I hated that he seemed to notice. His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth. This time, he didn’t look away quite fast enough. Neither did I.

The moment stretched – thin, charged, and far too private for the middle of the kitchen. Then he blinked, and the familiar smirk slid back into place. I finished tying my apron, forcing my hands to stay steady and stepped past him. Our shoulders brushed in the narrow space between the counter and the wall.

It was barely contact.

It still sent a sharp little spark through me, followed by the maddening awareness of how close he was, how warm he felt through our uniforms. “Keep dreaming,” I managed to get out as I walked away.

“Already am.”

I glanced back over my shoulder. He was still watching me, his expression smug but his posture a little too still, like he was holding himself back from saying something worse. “Try not to hurt yourself this time during service, yeah?”

“Can’t promise that, you’re distracting.” His voice had dropped, the teasing edge softened into something…rougher.

The pause that followed felt heavier than it had any right to. For once, neither of us rushed to fill it. I could hear the clatter of pans, the hiss of the grill, the steady thud of my own heartbeat. I swallow past a lump in my throat before I say, “Then consider this your first workplace safety violation.”

“Worth the write-up.” His eyes swept over me again, slower this time. “Maybe even worth getting called into the office.”

I rolled my eyes, but I could feel the smile threatening at the corner of my mouth. “Don’t get excited. You’d have to behave badly enough to earn it.”

“Thought I already had.”

“You’re still here, aren’t you?”

“Exactly. So you’re either very forgiving…” he leaned closer, his shoulder nearly brushing mine again “...or you like having me around.”

I held his gaze, refusing to let him see how quickly my breath had caught. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Gladly.”

Behind me, I heard him exhale a quiet laugh, and the sound settled somewhere inconvenient beneath my ribs. I turned toward my station before he could see the surprising effect he was having on me. God…this is going to be a long shift.

A few hours into the shift, I was halfway through gathering ingredients for my station when the walk-in door swung open behind me and a voice that was oh-so familiar. “Thought you were supposed to be working.”

I gazed over my shoulder. Adrian stepped inside, smiling as if he’d caught me doing something wrong. Cold air curled around him, silvering the edges of his brunette locks and carrying the clean, sharp scent of the kitchen with it. Still, it was the sight of him that made me forget what I’d been reaching for. “Thought you were supposed to mind your own business.”

“Just checking on you, hot stuff.”

The nickname landed warmer than it had any right to. Heat slipped beneath my collar despite the chill. I turned back to the shelf before he could see it get to me, pretending to study labels I’d already read. “How thoughtful. Do you need something, or did you come in here to bother me?”

“Can’t it be both?”

He reached past me for a container, his arm brushing mine. The contact was brief – easy to dismiss an accidental – but the warmth of him lingered against my skin. He didn’t rush to pull away.

Neither did I.

“Can’t a guy enjoy some company?”

“Not when the company is me,” I snorted. “I’m busy.”

“Could’ve fooled me, you’ve been talking to me all day.”

“Because you won’t shut the fuck up!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up dramatically.

He laughed, low and easy, and leaned against the shelving beside me. The sound seemed louder in the cramped, humming room. “You’re cute when you’re irritated.”

My fingers tightened around the cambro of onions I had finally found. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His gaze dipped to my mouth before returning to my eyes.

The realization sent a sharp flutter through my chest. I narrowed my eyes, trying to decide whether he was teasing me or testing the waters. Either way, he was watching too closely for me to pretend I hadn’t noticed. “Careful, Adrian. Someone might think you’re flirting with me.”

His grin softened, the usual mischief giving way to something quieter. “Maybe I am.”

The words settled between us.

My breath caught. I hated that he noticed, hated even more that the corner of his mouth lifted when he did.

The cooler hummed around us, steady and indifferent, but neither of us spoke. Condensation gathered along the metal shelves. Somewhere behind me, a compressor clicked on. The silence felt deliberate, stretched thin between his gaze and mine.

I lifted my chin. “Bold strategy for someone who came in here looking for a cambro.”

“Maybe it was an excuse.”

“Wow. And here I thought you were naturally annoying.”

“I can be both.” His voice dropped, still playful but edged with something that tightened my stomach again. His hand came to rest on the shelf beside mine – not touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat of him through the narrow space between us. The choice felt deliberate.

I should’ve stepped away.  I should’ve said something sharp enough to put him back in his place.

Instead, I stayed exactly where I was, acutely aware of the cold at my back and the warmth gathering everywhere else. “Adrian,” I said in a warning tone.

“What?” His smile turned lazy. “You’re the one who brought up flirting?”

“And you’re the one standing in my bubble.”

He let out a throaty chuckle, rolling his eyes. “Am I?” He said it like a question, but neither of us moved.

The cold pressed against my back. HIs gaze held mind, patient and intent, waiting – not pushing, exactly, but making it impossible to pretend this was still only a joke. I could hear my own breathing now, too quick and shallow, and the faint rustle of his sleeve when his fingers shifted against the shelf. I opened my mouth, ready with a comeback, but nothing came out.

For once, I didn’t have a smartass response. Judging by the look in his eyes, Adrian was enjoying that far too much.

He reached past me for a container on the upper shelf, his arm brushing mine again.

“Excuse you,” I retorted at him.

“Didn’t realize I needed permission.”

“What you need is supervision.”

He laughed as he set the container down, but he didn’t step back. In the cramped walk-in, his shoulder stayed pressed close to mine. I told myself the sudden warmth under my skin was from the kitchen, even though the walk-in was cold enough to make my fingers stiff.

“You always this mouthy?” He leaned in closer.

“Only when someone earns it.”

His grin sharpened. His gaze dipped down to my lips then quickly lifted back to my eyes. The glance lasted barely a second, but I felt it like a touch.

“So…you admit I’ve earned your attention?”

“I admit you’re difficult to ignore.”

“That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t fool yourself, I was insulting you.”

“Sure you were.”

The pause that followed was too quiet for the cramped space we were in. The refrigeration unit hummed around us as I looked up at him, refusing to let him see how warm my face had grown. I really should step away… Instead, I stayed exactly where I was, suddenly all too painfully aware of the narrow space between us. “Youre awfully confident for someone who just got roasted in a walk-in.”

“Maybe I like the way you talk to me.”

“Maybe you need better hobbies.”

“Maybe I’ve got one.”

His voice dropped just enough to change the shape of the words. I held his gaze, two brown eyes gazing into another, waiting for the joke he usually hid behind. However, his expression had gone still around the edges. His eyes stayed on mine, intent and unguarded, and for once neither of us seemed interested in pretending this was only a game.

My pulse gave an irritating little jump. I knew he could probably see it in my eyes – the fact that I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to look away. Before I could find a response, someone called for us from the kitchen. “Coming!” I yelled, grabbing my cambro of onions I originally came in for a little too quickly.

Adrian’s hand closed around the edge at the same time, stopping me in my tracks for half a second. His fingers brushed mine, neither of us let go.

It was brief, but it left a strange, lingering awareness in its wake. I glanced down at our hands, then back up at him. His eyes flicked between my face and our fingers, as if he was waiting to see who would break first.

I pulled free and moved past him, our shoulders pressing together. This time, neither of us moved away instantly. He leaned closer, inches away from my face, his warm breath being felt against my ear as he said, “Try not to miss me, hot stuff.”

I shot him a look, though it took more effort than it should have to keep my expression steady. “Try not to embarrass yourself.”

His smile turned slow and satisfied. “Too late.” Then he stepped away, leaving me with the container in my hands, the kitchen calling from beyond the door, and the unmistakable feeling that neither of us had been joking anymore.

I pushed through the door without looking back, though every part of me wanted to.

“Skylar,” he called.

I stopped.

His voice followed me, softer now, stripped of the grin. “Don’t make me wait too long for you to admit you like me.”

Once again, his words landed harder than they should have. I stared at the kitchen beyond the door, suddenly unsure whether I was more annoyed by his confidence or by how close he might be to being right.

I turned just enough to meet his eyes. “Don’t make me wait too long for you to give me a reason.”

Another night of service finished and I was ready to throw my apron in the trash and disappear for the next twelve hours.

Adrian, unfortunately, was still very much Adrian. He’d spent the last twenty minutes making comments about how miserable I looked, earning himself several threats involving whatever kitchen utensil happened to be closest. When we finally made it outside, he followed me to my Challenger.

The drive started with our usual back-and-forth, mostly complained about the shift and jokes about our coworkers. It wasn’t until we were a few minutes down the road that Adrian changed the subject. “So…can I ask you something?”

“Depends. Is it going to annoy me?”

“Probably.”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway so go ahead.”

He glanced over at me before looking back out the windshield. “Have you ever thought about…us?”

I cocked my head to the side, raising a brow. “Us?”

“You know what I mean.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

He shook his head, smiling. “Alright, alright. Have you ever thought about, like…hooking up?”

I looked over at him briefly before returning my attention to the road. “Well, that’s certainly a conversation.”

“Just asking.”

“Do you ask all your coworkers that?”

“Only the ones I like.”

I rolled my eyes, although I couldn’t help smiling. “You’re an idiot.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

I thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know, Adrian…Maybe. I’m not exactly looking for a relationship right now.”

“Neither am I.”

“Good, because I’m not interested in making things complicated.”

“Who said anything about complicated?”

I glanced over at him again. “You’re a man. You make everything complicated.”

He chucked, leaning back in his seat. “How about we keep it simple? Whatever happens at work stays at work.”

I paused. “Like what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?” I shook my head and laughed. “That’s your pitch?”

“Worked in Vegas, didn’t it?”

“You’re unbelievable. I can’t stand you,” I said with a tinge of adoration.

“So is that a yes?”

I pulled into the apartment complex, shifting into park before turning toward him. “I don’t know… we’ll see.”

“I can work with that.”

I shook my head, putting my seatbelt back on. “You’re awfully confident.”

“Just optimistic.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah… Same time tomorrow? Unless your car magically fixes itself overnight. At this point just get a new car.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Miracles happen. Goodnight, Adrian.”

He opened the car door, stepping out before leaning down toward the open window. “Night, hot stuff. Don’t think too much about me.”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

His laughter rang throughout the parking lot. I watched him disappear into his apartment building before pulling away, shaking my head at myself.

Friends with benefits.

The idea wasn’t entirely unreasonable. We got along, there was clearly some attraction, and neither of us seemed particularly interested in anything serious. No expectations. No strings. No reason for things to get complicated, right?

What could possibly go wrong?