Regretting You(56)

“So normal,” Lexie says, seemingly disappointed. She eats a spoonful of pudding and sucks on the spoon for a second. She pops it out of her mouth and points at Miller. “Who’s your best friend, Miller Jeremiah Adams? Is he hot? Single?”

“They’re all hot and single,” Miller says. “What exactly are you looking for?”

Lexie shrugs. “I’m not picky. I prefer blond men with blue eyes. Someone with a dry sense of humor. A little rude. Hates spending time with people. Doesn’t mind a girlfriend who has a shopping addiction and likes to be right about everything. Athletic. Taller than six foot. And Catholic.”

I laugh. “You aren’t even Catholic.”

“Yeah, but Catholics are strict and have to confess a lot, so he might sin less than, say, a Baptist.”

“Your reasoning is so, so flawed,” I say.

“I know just the guy,” Miller says, standing up. “Want me to go get him?”

“Right now?” Lexie asks, perking up.

“I’ll be right back.” Miller walks away, and Lexie looks at me, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Maybe I do like your boyfriend. He cares about your best friend.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t allowed to refer to him as my boyfriend yet.”

“There was a pause when I said that word,” she states. “I like your boy . . . friend.”

We watch Miller as he takes a seat at his usual lunch table. He’s talking to a guy named Efren. I know him from theater, but he doesn’t match any of Lexie’s requests. Or demands, rather.

Efren has black hair, he’s shorter than Lexie, and he’s certainly not athletic. He moved here from the Philippines before starting high school a few years ago. Efren smiles at Lexie from across the lunchroom, but she groans and lifts a hand to her face, hiding her view of him.

“Is he serious right now? Efren Beltran?”

“I was in theater with him. He’s really nice. And cute.”

Lexie’s eyes widen, like I’m betraying her. “He’s like five seven!” She peeks through her fingers and sees Miller walking Efren over to the table. She groans and drops her hand but doesn’t hide her disappointment with Miller’s selection.

“This is Efren,” Miller says. “Efren, this is Lexie.”

Lexie’s eyes narrow in Miller’s direction before she drags them to Efren. “Are you even Catholic?”

Efren takes a seat next to her. He seems more amused by her reaction than insulted. “No, but I live half a mile from a Catholic church. I’m not opposed to converting.”

I already like him, but I have a feeling it’s not going to happen so easily on Lexie’s part. “You look kind of inexperienced,” she says, almost accusingly. “Have you even had a girlfriend before?”

“Does online count?” Efren asks.

“No. It most certainly does not.”

“Then . . . no.”

Lexie shakes her head.

Miller pipes up and looks at Efren. “I thought you and Ashton dated for a while. That counts, right?”

Efren indicates it doesn’t count with a shake of his head. “Fizzled out before it even started.”

“Bummer,” Miller says.

“How tall is your dad?” Lexie asks him. “Do you think you’re finished growing?”

“I don’t know,” Efren says, shrugging. “My dad left when I was three. I have no idea what he looks like.”

I can see Lexie’s eyebrow rise, albeit very subtly. “Mine too. Christmas Day.”

“That explains the attitude,” Efren says.

Lexie shrugs. “I don’t know. I think I had this attitude before I was three. It’s probably why he left.”

Efren agrees with a nod. “Probably. If we start dating, don’t get used to me being around, because I’ll probably get tired of your attitude and leave too.”

Lexie tries not to smile at that, but I’m pretty sure Efren’s sarcasm is sexier to her than his height would be, if he were tall.

I honestly didn’t expect this to go anywhere, but they’re on equal ground when it comes to the jabs. Maybe she’ll actually let him take her out on a date.

I turn away from them and face Miller. He smiles mischievously before crunching on another chip. “He’s a really good guy,” he whispers. “She might be surprised if she’d just give him a chance.” He takes a chip and holds it up to my mouth. I eat it, and then he leans in and kisses me.

It’s just a peck—lasts maybe two seconds—but it’s two seconds too long because a moment later, someone is tapping us on the shoulder. We both look up to see the lunchroom monitor glaring at us.

“No PDA in the cafeteria. Put up your trays and come with me. Lunch detention.”

I look at Miller and shake my head. “I’ve been dating you fourteen hours, and you’re already getting me in trouble.”

Miller laughs. “You were doing illegal things with me long before fourteen hours ago. You forget about the sign?”

“Let’s go,” the lunch monitor says.

She follows us as we put our trays away. Miller swipes the bag of chips off my tray when she’s not looking and shoves them into the front of his jeans, covering them with his T-shirt.