Breaking Point

Chapter 8

Video was made by myself

-CFF

_______________

~Em's PoV~

Sharon frowns, her eyes scrutinizing my outfit. "You know, I think I like the teal pumps better with the last outfit you tried on. The yellow just doesn't flow with it. What do you think Yolo?" Yolo looks up from her phone, her slender fingers pausing above the lit screen. "I don't know Sharon. I think this one matches."

My roommate groans and throws her hands up in exasperation as she paces back and forth. "That's what you've said about every other outfit that Emilee has tried on this morning! How is she going to find the perfect outfit for later if we don't eliminate some of the choices?!"

I lean against a nearby wall and stifle a sigh as Yolo begins to argue with Sharon. Today is September twenty-ninth, Ian's and mine three-month anniversary. We talked about how it during work yesterday, and Ian decided he wanted to do something to celebrate it. Personally, I'm okay with not going over the top, or even at all, but Ian insisted. After we reached a compromise to do something small to celebrate, Ian shut up about it. When I bugged him about details  he refused to give me any,

Around seven this morning, he texted me, telling me to meet him at Danny's. Danny's is now our usual hangout when we want to just sit and talk, eat something, or meet up. Its nice and quiet, out of the way of the world and the medias. The both of us go there constantly, and because I had been going there long before I met Ian, I know everyone on Danny's staff of four. Its nice, and they're all wonderful people.

I look up from the floor to see my friends still arguing. I firmly believe that those two have a love-hate relationship. This morning, they were both so happy with each other. Sharon read over my shoulder when the text arrived this morning. Ever the dramatic fashionista, Sharon dragged Yolo, who had spent the night with us after a long evening of studying together, and I--taking us to the nearest department store on this cheery Friday morning.

I look down at my watch, reading it quickly. 11:25. Its eleven twenty-five. I'm meeting Ian at noon. I turn on my heel and head back into my dressing room, not wanting to deal with these girls. Forget this, I'm out of here. They can settle their spat without me. I slip into my original outfit and grab the clothes I liked best. I kick off the heels and grab a pair of tall black boots to match the silver shirt, black denim skirt and black fedora with a bow just above the brim.

I leave the dressing rooms, dragging my friends up to the cash registers at the front of the store. I quickly pay for all my items and head out the front door. I hop into the Jeep with Sharon and Yolo, heading home with a determination to take these squabbling girls home. I feel like a mom. I park the car and rush inside to change clothes. Its eleven forty five, so I don't stop for anything else as I head back out, grabbing the keys to my cycle.

I throw a goodbye wave over my shoulder, but my two friends are still going at it that I doubt they saw me leave. I put my fedora into the closed basket I have on the back of my motercycle, otherwise it would fall off while I'm riding. I open the garage and speed away, anxious to meet up with Ian and fill my hungry belly with a warm banana muffin. The drive seems shorter today, but maybe its just because I'm focused on my destination. Once I find a parking space, which is surprisingly challenging today, I grab my fedora from the back and place it on my head before running inside. I see Ian sitting in a back corner, in our normal booth.

I slide into the seat directly next to him as he greets me with a broad smile. "Morning gorgeous. Happy three month anniversary." I laugh lightly, and lean over to kiss his cheek. "Happy anniversary." Ian gazes at me softly, his baby blue eyes boring into mine. I could swim in his eyes forever. Ian waves a hand, gesturing at the coffee cup with a brim full of fresh whipped cream and drizzled chocolate in front of me. "I went ahead and ordered your coffee, a mocha frappachino, like always. But I didn't get a muffin because I didn't know what kind you wanted today."

I reach into my handbag and search for my wallet but Ian stops me. "Nuh-uh. I'm paying today." I love this man, so amazing and generous and loveable. He hands me a five and sends me to the empty counter. I smile widely at April, the woman at the cashier. She smiles back, and flips a stray hair off of her forehead. Her midnight black locks pulled behind in a ponytail just as it is every day, matching the sweater shirt and jeans she wears most of the time. "Morning Emilee! What's the muffin for today?" April asks in her normal bubbly voice. "Banana nut. If they're still warm that is." She nods wildly. "Oh yeah, they're still warm. Bubba just made a batch an hour ago or something like that,  and I think he's pulling them out of the oven now. Let me go check."

April turns around and leaves the counter. She walks through the staff door as she calls out, "Bubba! Did you get the muffins done yet?" April is in her mid-twenties, only three years older than myself. She's working full time here at Danny's to help cover culinary school. She's trying to send money back to her family in Nevada, but she doesn't always have an abundance of cash to send. April rarely goes out for fun, at least with what I've seen. She's dedicated to family, job and school, manages her time-table well and is one of the most sensible people I know.

Bubba Belfrey on the other hand is known for his cooking skills and his want to have fun. He owns Danny's, pretty much spends his life here. You can find him sweeping the front step, baking in the kitchen, or swapping jokes with the Danny's regulars most of the time. You wouldn't imagine a guy named Bubba owning a place named Danny's but once you look under the surface you see that Danny's has been owned by the Belfrey's for generations. Danny's was started by Bubba's granddad, the cafe's namesake.

I've heard Bubba repeat himself to the staff and the customers that "Danny's has always been an old coffee shop with good food, nice music, and an old fashioned name. It was like that when I was a young fella, I don't see no good reason in changing it now. Its gonna stay the same and I'll stay the same as long as the place stays in the family." Bubba's set the pace for Danny's and he fits right in. With his mass of curly red hair to match his curly red whiskers and beard, a round belly that jiggles everytime Bubba roars in laughter, and big warm arms all ready to hand out a hug, Bubba is our LA Santa Claus.

April rushes out with a steaming banana nut muffin wrapped in an aluminum muffin cup. My stomach rumbles. I give April the bill and my Danny's punch card. She glances at it before handing the five dollar bill and a new punch card back to me. "Em this is your tenth one, its free!" I grin. "Sweet! Thanks April. Tell Bubba thank you for the muffin for me will you? I know it'll taste amazing." She throws me a smile as I walk back to where Ian is waiting for me.

I slide into my seat next to Ian, setting my muffin on the table. Ian reaches over and snatches off a corner of the warm bread, stuffing it into his mouth. "Hey!" I protest. "That's my muffin mister." He smiles and swallows. "Thank you for sharing." I lower my head and glare at him. Nobody steals my muffin. "Thief."

Ian's eyes widen and he leans back in mock horror. "Me?" I fold my arms across the table. "Yah you. Don't play innocent because I'm a witness to your guilt." Ian leans forward and props his chin up with his hand, his long and slender fingers cupping the side of his face. Ian's bright eyes enlarge as he gazes at me. "Do you want me to make it up to you?"

"Can you?" I ask, not spotting the mischief sparkling in his blue orbs. Ian leans over and plants his mouth firmly on mine. My hands automatically reach up to hold his face, my lips moving against his. Ian smiles and presses his lips on mine, putting more pressure on my red mouth. He licks my top lip, asking for entrance. I don't give it to him, wanting to stick with the soft and sweet, not hot and passionate. Ian's hand rests at the small of my back, drawing my body up to his. His tongue makes its way forcefully into my mouth, playing with mine. I pull back, gasping for air.

"Was that good enough for you?" Ian asks, holding back his laughter, but not his smiles. I raise an eyebrow. "Good? That was intense Mr. Hollywood. No wonder they call you a bad boy. Your kisses drive me crazy." I rub my arm, trying to slow down my heartbeats. Ian leans over and whispers in my ear, "That's the point." I blush wildly and stare at my muffin. "Why don't you go buy a muffin or something? Put your passions into that." Ian shrugs. "I could but its not the same. Happy three months Precious." My hands break apart my muffin as I'm trying to cool my still burning cheeks.