for, liar

Chapter 37

Did I seriously just say that?

Why would I say that?

We've only been dating for a few months.

Is it too late to take it back?

Why isn't he saying anything back?

Why am I a professional at making things so fucking weird?

"I...I didn't mean it like that. I love that you're so sweet to me. I mean like, I do love you. You're my best friend and my boyfriend. You're an amazing person and you mean so much to me. I just didn't mean to- sorry, I just made this dinner very awkward." I ramble.

His face lights up and he calms my nerves when he laughs.

"Bree, stop freaking out. I know what you mean. There doesn't have to be a specific timestamp for saying that. I want you to say it when you mean it, not holding back if you think it's too soon or saying it just because you feel like you should. People make such a huge deal out of these certain expectations for relationships. It doesn't matter what anyone thinks. If that's how you really feel, then you should be able to express that to me without being scared that I won't feel the same or if I think it's too soon."

I shouldn't be horrified to say how I feel. I've been in love before. I know what it feels like. I'm confident enough in our relationship to know what this is. I just don't want to rush something that he may not feel too.

"But how do you feel exactly?" I ask softly.

He chuckles and takes my cheek into the palm of his hand. "Those three words simply cannot measure how I feel about you."

That's sweet and all, but I think I'd feel better if he would actually say those three words.

I relax and finish off my glass of water as he generously pays the check.

After dinner he takes me back to the apartment. Maddy's car is parked there so I think I might be able to sleep tonight.

I kiss him gently, thank him again for the dinner and flowers, and walk inside for the night. Maddy's sprawled out on the couch asleep with the TV blaring. I grab the remote from the floor and turn it off. Her makeup is smeared and her hair has gotten ratted in the back. She looks like a wreck and I can't help but be sorry that I couldn't make her feel better.

"Mads?" I whisper and lean down.

She's in such a deep sleep that she doesn't move at all when I reach over to touch her. She's taken it upon herself to make the couch her place of rest for the night.

I grab a blanket from the linen closet down the hall and lay it over her. She's still in her dress and heels so the least I could do was take her shoes off for her and set them under the coffee table.

My phone buzzes when I make it to my room to show a notification from Miles.

"Thanks for another amazing evening, xoxo"

I told myself I wouldn't get offended if he didn't say "I love you" back but now I feel mocked? What's with the x and o's? He's too grown to use emojis but he can't say I love you?

The fact that I'm actually pissed off by this is beyond me. There is absolutely no reason why he should feel obligated to say it. I waited a year into my relationship with Ben to use it because I wanted to mean it. Though it was way different back then and I was too young to even know the importance those words hold.

He doesn't have to say anything he doesn't mean. I would rather him feel the way that I do when he says it. I just hope this doesn't mean he really doesn't feel as strongly about this relationship as I do. I guess we'll see when I meet his mother this weekend.

The next morning I got up an hour earlier than I had set my alarm for. I take my time in the shower and enjoy a cup of coffee with eggs before it's time to go into my shift. Miles had sent his good morning text before I even got dressed. I wonder what's got him up so early. My only assumption could be work.

I really wasn't looking forward to working a whole shift with Jeff but I need to suck it up. The only person that benefits the least from my bad attitude is me.

All of the newbies were there when I arrived. I'm glad I don't have to deal with Jesse constantly being on his cellphone the entire shift and not paying attention. I do wish I had Tiffany on the floor today because she always busts her ass to get drinks out and she has hilarious lines to connect with the customers.

"You have to make drinks because no one else here can do it. They will have to take orders and get the pastries." Jeff tells me as I put on all of my Scream Beans gear.

"Are you not going to be on the floor?" I ask and raise my brow.

He's sitting at the back desk with a large stack of papers in front of him. I don't even want to know what all of that could be.

"No, not today. I will be back here if you need me." He says and winks.

Not exactly sure what the wink was thrown in there for but I'm taking that as my queue to go to work.

When I get up front there's already a long ass line to the door. I rush over to the espresso machine and start grabbing the order stickers that are popping out. Each one has some crazy and obnoxious modification that I have to read a few times to make sure I'm following it correctly. At Scream Beans they probably expect us to mess up, but I still would like decent reviews on our Yelp.

"I said no foam! Why is there foam?" A man yells at me from across the counter as I'm putting a lid on the latte in front of me.

"This isn't yours, dumbass. It's for Marcus. Are you Marcus?"

"No, but you can call me what you want."

Is everyone trying to be a fucking creep today? Where's Lana when I need her?

"Miss Bree! Where's the bags for the food!" The new girl yells.

I'm pretty sure she's only a few years older than me so being called Miss by her makes me feel ancient.

"They're in the back next to the sink!" I yell back and watch her scurry to the back room.

Our other new guy, Christopher, continues taking orders as I'm making the drinks. I'm feeling good and energized that I'm able to interact and get these orders out without being too overwhelmed.

No one is in a bad mood so being mean to them was starting to become a challenge. I just end up picking on people at that point.

"Dan, here's your mocha and a business card to a new barber because you got screwed over your last visit."

The older man laughs genuinely and tips as he walks out. I'm getting paid to bully people. This must be what it feels like to be a high school teacher.

Revised;