Enamor (Hearts of Stone #3) by Veronica Larsen Page B

office but is opting to do closer to me.  
    We spend a ridiculous amount of time talking during my shifts. More than I think either of us wants to admit. I've learned a lot about her over the past few days. Lex's working full time through her degree, a double major in business and engineering. I asked her how she did on her finals and she told me she aced them. I laughed at first, because the unassuming way she said it made it seem like a joke. But she wasn't joking. If I didn't know her, if I didn't glimpse the subtle signs of stress oozing out of her ever so often, I'd think it was easy for her. I might even be tempted to envy her. But the girl has no time in her life for anything else. No social life, nothing for her own enjoyment. She simply barrels through, busting her butt quietly and without complaint.
    Seeing her and her trailblazing confidence, I'd guess she was raised in an affluent family. But from some of the things she's said, I've gathered the opposite. Sometimes her anecdotes are just tiny threads that make no real sense out of order, but strung together the tapestry becomes clear. She's been on her own from a young age, the only family she ever mentions is a younger sister that she seems to be responsible for.  
    Being a pseudo parent for a sibling, without any other family to lean on, is something I can't imagine. I come from a big family. My two sisters and I were always surrounded by cousins, aunts, and uncles. And today, I miss my family with a pang in my chest.  
    I miss the comfort of my sisters, knowing I could be as honest and open with them as I wanted. Having jokes that weren't really that funny, but made us laugh until our sides hurt. I even miss my sisters being in my face all the time, never giving me privacy. And I miss the obnoxiously loud, enthusiastic raising of voices whenever someone got excited in the middle of a conversation. It got loud in our house, all the time. Everyone talked over each other, no one making an effort to level their voice or their laughter.
    And my parents, as insanely strict and conservative as they are, have always provided for us. Never allowing us to struggle more than what was necessary for our growth into adulthood. Sometimes we forget to count our blessings because we are looking at them from the wrong angle.
    "How come you never talk about your new roommates?" Lex asks, without looking up from the ledger where she's writing.  
    I'm cutting fruit for garnish, preparing for the dinner crowd. "There's nothing much to say."
    "Do you not like them?"
    I lower my voice, though there's no one around to overhear.
    "The girl, she's never around. I swear, I forget she lives there. And it's her house. The guy…he's…" I shake my head at all the inappropriate words that threaten to leave my mouth. "Let's just say he's a huge pain in my ass. He's the big-headed, God's-gift-to-women type."
    "You're clutching that knife a little tight, there," she notices.
    I loosen my grip and shoot her a sideways smirk. "Sorry. He drives me nuts."
    "Is he hot?"
    "Of course he's hot."
    "They have to be, right? To get away with being such huge douches."
    A few minutes later, as though reeled in by the topic of discussion, the man I call Mr. Suit sits at the bar. He offers Lex a small smile, which she returns. I glance at the time again, surprised to see him in here this early. He's been coming in the evenings, every few days. He's dismissive toward me, as always. It's obvious Lex is the only reason he comes here. But I go over and take his order, anyway. Another Jameson. Shocking in no way, at all. He looks like the type who is specific and consistent.  
    I head back to Lex and spare a sideways glance at our lone patron. "I think he's here to see you again," I say to her.
    "I know he is."
    "So what's the deal with him?"
    "He's a guy I've been seeing."
    My eyes go wide and I don't catch myself in time to stop them. "Seriously?"
    "What?" she asks, without looking up.
    "He's…older."