Memory 13 ♡ Squeeze The Lemons Life Gives You

It was a dark and stormy night when everything went to shit.


I'd barely just had enough time to duck behind the counter when Miguel and Bryce stepped into the Magic Cafe.


"It was just one coffee," Miguel groaned. "It's not like this is something serious."


Poonam and Matt were already used to my eccentricities, so they just walked around me doing their thing for their tables. It was late enough that even though we had a handful of tables full, all of the customers wore headphones as they studied for their finals frenetically. I'd decided to take the nightshift again to basically get paid for measuring Ayrton up for my two male apparel outfits, and he was nowhere to be seen.


I just hadn't counted on the fact that I'd end up hearing these guys' argument.


"One coffee too many! You should've stood her up."


"You're kidding me, right?" Miguel asked.


"No, I'm dead serious," Bryce huffed. "What happened to bros before hoes?"


"First of all, women are not hoes that you can discard and pick back up like a used watch." I could tell from Miguel's voice that he was angry. Which was a first. I peeked over the counter but I couldn't see his expression, it was Bryce who was facing my way. "Second of all, you already started seeing someone else."


Bryce smacked the table, and despite their headphones a couple of customers turned to see what the big deal was.


"Ugh," Poonam uttered above me. "What a dick."


"That doesn't mean my ex is free game!" But that wasn't all for Bryce, he then said, "Just because you have a pretty face you think you can get all the chicks? Well fuck you, asshole."


He stood up and for a second I feared he could see me, so I crouched down again. I heard his steps fade away and the front door open, where I could hear the howling of the wind again.


"That's my cue," Matt said as he headed over to ask Miguel what he wanted to have.


"Damn it," I whispered as Poonam joined me down on the floor. "Is he staying?"


"Looks like it, yeah." She put a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "How you doing?"


"I don't know," I admitted as I bit my lip. "Like, Bryce is a total douchebag but I'm not sure Miguel's being all that nice either."


"Yeah, dating your buddy's ex is kinda weird. Although I guess if they really like each other it should be fine..." She trailed off as my face locked up in a grimace. "Anyway, the real question here is what are you going to do?"


"Nothing, I told you-"


"No, I mean," she said this with a roll of her eyes so massive it was a wonder they could right themselves again. "Are you planning on staying on the floor the rest of the night?"


"Oh."


It was true. I couldn't just stay in the way the whole night. Besides, I had things to do. I crawled on all fours to the manager's office and once I was in there, I gave him a call. And another one. Finally when he picked up all he said was, "Sorry, sorry! I'm on my way."


And he hung up on me.


I headed over to the ladies room to wash my hands and my face and as I looked at myself in the mirror, water dripping down to my Magic Cafe t-shirt, I wondered if this was as good time as any for a good ol' panic attack. In two weeks I was going to have the final showcase for my Design class, and Miguel and I also would have to submit our finalized Business Plan. And then finals would be over.


After those two weeks, I wouldn't see him again. Next semester I was going to be free from this crush and who knew, maybe I'd meet someone else to distract me. It was all good things to look forward to, and yet I felt as if my heart were being squeezed in my chest by an invisible hand.


I took several deep breaths and dried my face. I smacked my cheeks and told myself, "You can do this."


I emerged from the bathroom like a queen and faked surprise at seeing Miguel leaning against the counter.


"Hey," he said, although not in his usual way. The fight with his roommate had really bothered him. It was in the tight lines in his face and the way his body appeared tightly coiled. "I'm glad you're here, I'm working on our report and I wanted to get your opinion on something."


Poonam gave him a mug of steaming coffee and her eyes twinkled as she told me, "He was just asking if you were here. I told him you were on break."


"Thanks." I put on a smile that probably looked as though someone were pulling at my cheeks with their fingers. "And sure, the place is pretty dead tonight."


I sat down with him and he turned his laptop to me. We worked on the report together for the next few minutes with the intensity two people could produce when they didn't want to think about what was truly bothering them. I didn't even care that he smelled amazing, clean and male and warm. I just focused on getting this done as soon as possible so I could put distance between us. So I could stop thinking about him and how much it bothered me that Becca had shown up in the picture.


We'd done pretty good progress when Ayrton burst in through the doors, heaving as if he'd run the entire way here.


He dropped on Miguel's and my table like a wet rag. Which was fitting, since it had started to rain and he was soaked.


"Honey, we have a problem," he rasped out.


I jumped to his side, my hands fretting over him and not knowing what to do.


"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"


"Not me." He ran a hand through his longish hair. "I was on my way over when Aunt Jem called me. She's in the hospital. Slipped on a puddle of spilled whiskey and broke her leg."


"What?" I screeched.


As if summoned by that inhuman sound, Juan came out from the kitchen with Matt and Poonam in tow.


It was the most ridiculous story in the world. Aunt Jem was an amazing bartender who didn't waste a drop of anything, but the whiskey bottle had crashed to the floor after a drunken fight between two frat boys at the bar who apparently were, shockingly, fighting over a girl. Jem tried to separate them, but that was when she'd slipped. And it all had happened a few minutes ago.


"She's fine," Ayrton assured us. "But she's on her way to the hospital and she's going to need some help."


An ice cold sensation traveled up my spine as he grabbed my hands and gave me his best puppy eyes.


"Which means I probably have to go help her for a few days, and um-"


I gasped. "My fashion showcase."


He cringed. "I'm sorry."


"What about your finals?" I asked him, squeezing his hands in return.


"I'll figure something out." He looked at Matt dead in the eye. "You'll be in charge while I'm out."


Matt puffed his chest and saluted, eager to score points with his crush.


Poonam folded her arms. "Why him and not me?"


"Because I have a more important job for you." He took her into his office, where I was sure he was personally introducing her to his accounting books.


That was confirmed when I heard her voice scream, "These are a mess!"


A small smile appeared on my face, but now I had a big problem to figure out. I looked at Juan and Matt as they chatted over by the cash register, wondering if I could fit them into the look I was going for. I was trying to design haute couture outfits that looked expensive, like they belonged on the catwalk of Milan Fashion Week. Much as they had their own individual charms, I couldn't see how they'd pull it off. Matt was more likely to start flipping the bird at the showcase audience than enthrall them with grace and elegance. And Juan, bless him, he was a total cutie but he was so shy that when given the option to be a waiter or a cook, he'd chosen to stay in the kitchen because he just didn't want to deal with people.


Then my eyes fell on Miguel.


As if he'd been reading my mind he asked, "What is this fashion showcase?"


Nope, I thought as I stood up.


"Eh, nothing much," I said in what I hoped was a dismissive way. I headed back behind the counter, doing the eenie meenie moe in my mind to see who between Matt and Juan was going to get the honor of replacing Ayrton as my model. And then I felt my t-shit being yanked.


I turned, shocked, to find Miguel wagging his finger at me. "Nuh-uh, you're not running. Tell me."


The embarrassment threatened to spill out of my body in waves, but it must have shown itself in hot cheeks because the heavy wattage smile I was used to came back to his face.


I cleared my throat and tried to regain my dignity as I fixed up my t-shirt. "I have a major exam this semester, which simulates a fashion showcase. You've seen me measuring clothes on Becca, right?"


"Oh, yeah. Like that time I came in with Page and Jace."


"Exactly. Ayrton was supposed to be my male model but now..." I gestured vaguely with my hands and looked back at the two guys. "So I was thinking of-"


"I'll do it."


I whipped back so fast I made myself dizzy. Even worse, he steadied me with his hands around my waist.


As if the position wasn't awkward, he shrugged and repeated, "What do I have to do?"


Ayrton and Poonam came out of the office and he looked like a star on Broadway, arms spread and looking on as if a wide audience awaited his next lines. "Ugh, I feel so much better knowing that Addy won't be in trouble because of me."


"Really, it doesn't seem that complicated," Poonam said, layering the indifference extra thicker on her voice. "All you have to do is stand still as she takes your measurements, then a couple of fittings and finally walk the runway."


"Runway?" Miguel's eyebrows went up.


"We'll give you alcohol before you have to walk it." Ayrton patted the other boy's arm. "Thank you so much for helping my dear, dear friend."


"Wait a second," I started. "I haven't-"


Agreed to this, was what I wanted to say, but Ayrton cut me off as he explained that he'd already packed up a suitcase and was driving down to Sarasota right now. He kissed both of my cheeks and after more farewells, he was out.


Miguel turned to me, hands on hips as though he were getting ready to lift some weight. "Well, where do we begin?"


I caught Poonam giving me the double thumbs up before she disappeared back into the manager's office. My shoulders deflated as I realized that yep, this was happening. Matt was so distraught that he just waved me away when I asked if I could ditch the rest of my shift. I packed up my things and then stood in front of my new model like I didn't have a clue what to do.


In full disclosure, I was wondering if I'd be able to get away with asking him to get buck naked with the excuse that that was the best way to take accurate measurements.


"Well?" he asked.


I got a coughing fit.


A few minutes later we'd made it all the way to my apartment. I'd given Becca a friendly heads up and she greeted us by the door in a tight little halter top and the most minuscule shorts.


"What a pleasant surprise," she said, cocking her hip in a way that gave her a very nice body line.


"Great," Miguel said to me. "I guess you can work on both of your models at once."


It really was a blessing in disguise. We brewed some coffee in the kitchen and Becca helped me put out a few healthy snacks to tide us over. Meanwhile I went into my room to gather all my supplies. I'd already started cutting patterns for Ayrton's outfits, and although he was also a fit guy, he really was smaller than Miguel. I was going to have to start from scratch.


"Wow, it almost looks like Charlie lives here," Miguel said as he leaned on my door frame.


"Geez, you almost gave me a heart attack." I folded my arms. "Besides, don't you think it's rude to barge into a girl's room uninvited?"


He laughed. "I didn't barge, as a matter of fact I'm technically outside of your wide open door."


I batted my hands at him. "Shoo, go to the living room."


Dang it, I should be mad at him but he just made me smile. I wanted to yank him into my room by his belt buckles and lock the door with us on the inside. Alas.


I measured Becca first, because I was a coward. The good thing about it was that she took advantage of the occasion to strike conversation with him. Every time the topic veered close to the coffee date they'd had, Miguel would bring it back to the topic of the clothes and the showcase. I explained to him that this was my main final, where I'd be competing against my classmates for a spot at a summer internship at a major fashion house.


I kneeled on the floor looking up at the unfinished dress that hung from Becca as I said, "And we don't even know which fashion house it'll be, but that doesn't mean I won't do my best, you know?"


"Of course," Miguel said from the couch. "You're a woman of ambition."


That made my chest feel warm.


Becca took over the entire conversation for the rest of the night. It wasn't my imagination that her chatter increased in intensity and speed as I started taking Miguel's measurements, because he sent me a pained expression. I ducked away from his eyes, pretending that it was because I was so engrossed in what I was doing. My hands were shaking as I measured the span of his arms, and downright convulsing as I wrapped them around his torso to measure his chest and waist. I had to take a pause to jot down the resulting numbers, and Lord help me but he had incredible proportions.


Becca said exactly what I was thinking, and that was, "Wow, your waist is so tiny. But your shoulders are so wide."


Miguel shrugged. "Crossfit."


I tried not to imagine him straining as he exercised, sweat tricking down his neck and to depths that—oh shit—I was somewhat going to explore now.


I couldn't look him in the eye as I said, "Um, I need to measure your lower body and all that."


"Go ahead."


Just by his voice alone I could tell that he was trying hard not to laugh.


When I finally went to sleep some hours later, I dreamed I was wrapping the measuring tape around his naked calves, then his thighs and then, because I wanted to make the most anatomically accurate pants in the world, I also measured everything else. In detail.


It was going to be a rough two more weeks.





is it just me or is this winter really warm, huh??



also two more memories after this and we go back to the present ✨

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