♥ 𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼 ♥ ~ A Your Boyfriend Game Fanfic/AU

Chapter 4: Part I - TK's Concern

Peter proves to be a persistent, if harmless, presence in my life as the weeks wear on.

It has become routine that he visits me at the cafe every day for a morning cup of coffee, or some sort of sweet. Usually it's a strawberry milkshake. But sometimes it's a pie or cheesecake. He attempts not to distract me from work, but his impulse control is poor.

Today, Peter sits on the barstool at the front counter. He can see into the employee's area better this way, and routinely smiles at me whenever our eyes meet. It's equal parts annoying and endearing.

TK catches me waving to Peter as I place the next batch of orders up for them to view.

TK purses their lips. "For a not-boyfriend, that guy sure is clingy."

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Tell me about it."

TK raises an eyebrow. They gesture to Peter. "Why don't you tell him off? Do you want me to—"

"It's fine, TK. It's fine. Peter's just a weird guy, but I don't think he's bad. Just awkward."

TK narrows their eyes. "Can you ask him to be awkward somewhere else? He's constantly distracting you."

I nod. "I'll talk to him." Again.

TK "Are you sure we shouldn't at least tell the cops that this guy won't leave you alone?"

I'm incredulous. "Tell them what? That this guy who I haven't even really told to leave me alone is hanging out around me?" I shrug. "The cops won't do jack shit. Never have. Besides, I can handle myself. I don't see what the big deal is."

TK grunts.

I look back at Peter, who's scrolling on his phone and sipping his milkshake. One of the few times he isn't looking at me.

I tap my latest orders. "Here's the next batch of orders. Try not to grow a stress tumor."

TK rolls their eyes. "With you around? Impossible."

I snort. "Please. I'm the best coworker you've ever had."

TK grins and shakes their head, remaining silent.

I walk back out to the dining area. Peter's eyes light up when he sees me. It's sort of endearing to have someone's expression completely change when I enter the room.

He continues sipping his strawberry milkshake, looking innocent and friendly. He waves me down.

I sigh and stride over. "You better have a big order for me to fulfill so I can at least say you're not distracting me."

Peter smirks. "Would you like me to order the entire menu? That should keep you busy enough."

I awkwardly blink. "The entire menu? That's hundreds of dollars' worth of food."

Peter shrugs. "I could do it. Or at least give you a big tip for your troubles." He winks at me and takes another sip of his milkshake.

He thinks he's slick. He isn't.

I cross my arms. "Fine. Do both, then. Since you're so keen to throw around your wealth."

Peter flashes a dangerous smile. "Is that a challenge? I do enjoy games, love."

I put both hands on the counter and lean forward, glaring at him. Despite him sitting, I still have to look up at him to get in his face.

"I double fuckin' dare you to buy the whole place out and leave me a fifty-dollar tip."

Peter chuckles, and leans closer to my face, resting his head on the palm of his hand.

"It'd be my pleasure."

I set back and pull out my notepad. "Everything on the menu, then?" There's no way he has that kind of money.

Peter nods and eats the cherry on top of his milkshake. "Everything." He licks his lips. "On one condition." A grin spreads across his features. "You make the food yourself."

I frown. "I can barely cook for myself, dude. Trust me, you'll want TK to make it."

Peter's expression darkens as he glances toward the kitchen. Then he looks at me and shrugs. "You're right. You shouldn't need to do all that work alone." He leans back in his chair. "But I'd love it if you made one thing for me."

I narrow my eyes, determined to call his bluff. He'll get a dumbass sandwich if he keeps this up. "Fine. But let me ring you up right now."

Peter grins. "Be my guest."

I calculate Peter's bill. "It's about five hundred dollars. Sound good to you?" I ask innocently.

Peter smirks at my tone. "Of course, love."

I glare at him. "Don't call me that."

He shrugs. "Leave a hundred dollar tip to my wonderful waitress as well," he says.

My jaw slacks. "A hundred dollars?!" I squeak. My average tip was three bucks. Or whatever ones the customer wanted to offload.

Peter looks surprised. "Is a hundred not enough? I could do more—"

"No! God, no, don't do that." I facepalm, annoyed he called my bluff. "Don't waste your money."

"Giving you a tip isn't a waste of—"

"What did you call me over here for, Peter?" Our conversations were always getting derailed because of situations like this. He does the exact opposite of what I expect. This entire dicking match is childish. Mainly because I lost. But whatever.

Peter averts his eyes. "I was wondering if you wanted to do something tonight." He blushes. "Not a date or anything, just...as friends?"

I think for a moment, tapping my pen on my notepad. "I can't tonight, Peter."

He looks disappointed, but nods. "Oh. I understand."

I bite my lip. "But maybe tomorrow."

His face looks as though he's been struck by a pleasurable lightning bolt.

"I'll call you," I say. "I just have a lot of chores to do tonight."

"Hey! I'm still waiting for my order." A customer waves to catch my attention.

I nod toward them. "Sure—"

Peter turns around and growls at the customer. "Don't talk to her like that."

I'm stunned by his aggression. "Peter, it's fine. I was taking too long, anyway."

The customer looks upset by Peter's offense. They shrink back in their seat.

Peter shifts his gaze to me. He looks guilty. "No one should talk to you like that."

I purse my lips. "No one would if you didn't distract me so much."

"You should get a break once—"

I sigh. "I know you're trying to help, but I have to work, Peter."

I walk to the customer to get their order. Peter leaves shortly after.