The chatter of people on a quiet Thursday evening filled the ears of one Greg Serrano, leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and dining room of his surprisingly successful restaurant. It took him so much hard work and effort to get here, and on most days he could hardly contain the pride he felt in this little spot that was all his own.

Some days he almost couldn't recognize himself in the mirror. The frown lines seemed to ease up on the corners of his lips and his eyes seemed more clear, although that was mainly a result of his sobriety, yet another thing he took a lot of pride in. But after those days that he didn't recognize himself, the days where his ego and self-esteem were so elevated, usually followed a storm cloud.

It was never anything he couldn't handle. Sometimes he would absentmindedly find himself taking his old route to Home Base, and he'd wonder why he ever came back to this town. Why hadn't he just stayed in Georgia? Why did he leave a place that fascinated and awed him?

But he knew deep down as much as he hated West Covina, he loved it just a little bit more.

He smiled as he ran through the most important memories he had here, and immediately frowned when it was over. Most of his memories involved Rebecca.

Not that he and Rebecca were on bad terms anymore or anything. On the contrary, they were in a better spot than they had ever been.

"Serrano! Yoo-hoo!"

Greg averted his gaze down from some random dude sitting with a mouthful of spaghetti across the room to the bright blue eyes to his right. He tried not to notice the way his heart sped up just a tiny bit as he smiled down at Rebecca's beaming face.

"Did you just summon yourself?"

"What?"

"Never mind," he shook his head, taking the few steps towards her booth. Smooth, Serrano. She watched him with that wide smile, her chin perched on her palm, and for a moment he let himself feel the emotions he usually kept hidden far away. He loved that she always gave him her full attention. She was always so eager and happy.

He wondered if she felt the same way he did in these moments they had. Well, if she did she hid it better than he did. He felt mildly disgusted with the dopey, love-sick smile on his face, and quickly took a seat across from her, reaching a swift hand to her book bag to dig out a notebook.

"How's the song coming along?"

She swatted his hand playfully, but he could see the excitement bubbling up inside of her as she went over any new progress she had made since the last time they had seen each other, which was approximately 4 days and 20 hours ago. Greg mentally sighed wishing that thought hadn't come to mind.

Yes, he and Rebecca were in a great place with each other but he really wished that he could just lean across the table and pull her in for a kiss.

Tuesdays found Greg shredding up a leaf of lettuce with his fingers and tossing them towards the ducks scattered around the pond in the park. The bench was far from comfortable and the sun blaring down on him caused a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. But he was here because as much of a recluse as he was he would rather live through the torture of the California heat and happy children and neglectful moms more encompassed with their phones than their kids, which really is shitty parenting but hey, who was he to say anything and what was he saying again?

Ah, yes. He'd rather suffer all the bullshit that came with being outside than deal with Guardrail's disapproving looks when he tells him that the only clarity he needs from being outside is on his ways to and from the restaurant.

If he was being honest, the dry air and moisture pricking at the corners of his eyes from the brightness of the sun did clear his head. Thoughts of Rebecca were still there as well as the stress of running a business but seemed so small when he looked out across the foliage.

Sometimes he might even entertain the fantasy that Rebecca would come up behind him, her eyes snaking across his chest and the heat of her breasts against his back making the heat almost unbearable but well worth it.

He shifted in his spot, his thoughts threatening to go down a more mature avenue, and he had to remind himself that he was in a public park with children and one particularly ugly fucking duck staring at him.

"Dude, you need to seriously add this to your menu," Heather mumbled around a mouthful of arancini he had specially made for her and Hector.

"For reals, bro," his friend added, already reaching for another one.

"I'm considering it, but I don't want to overwhelm the menu."

The door opened and his eyes shifted to the new patron. Immediately he straightened from his slouched posture and he could feel the corner of his lips quirk up in a side smile as he watched Rebecca's eyes scan the room for him.

"You don't gotta get all weird, you know."

His turned back to the couple in front of him, Hector happily chewing away, oblivious to the newcomer who would be sitting in front of him within mere seconds. Heather's eyes bore into Greg's and he knew she was trying to communicate with him telepathically, but he must not ever be on the same wavelengths as her or something.

"Hey guys and gals," Rebecca's voice squeaked as she bounced her way over to their table, sitting herself beside Greg.

He hated that the first thing he noticed was the sudden warmth in the space between them and the way her arm would brush against his as she settled herself in. "Almost all of my favorite people in one spot!"

Everyone greeted her, and in between bites Hector spouted out a "Hey, it's a double date now!"

Greg felt his face heat in embarrassment, nothing like the heat between their bodies, although now that was becoming uncomfortably warm and he shifted away slightly. Rebecca laughed awkwardly, lifting her book bag she always carried with her.

"Sorry guys I'm just here to get some work done, hopefully I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all," Greg responded barely more than a whisper and all too quickly. God, he could never keep his cool when Rebecca was around.

"Perfect," she whispered back at him, and he chanced a glance at her only to find her eyes sparkling back at him.

"Here," Heather said bluntly, grabbing one of the small risotto ball and gracelessly shoving it towards Rebecca's mouth, which she accepted with an indignant noise.

Heather was pretty good about reading the room, and he made a note to thank her for changing the subject and saving him from anymore goofy-eyed looks that might cause him to blurt out God knows what.

"Mmmm!" Greg watched Rebecca's expression, trying not to linger too long on the tongue that swept across her pink lips to catch any residuals. "Greg, this is so good! I could eat this like, every day! No like, for reals for reals!"

He knew it was good but he didn't wanna boast or seem cocky.

"Should have known it would just take a couple of balls– "

The grimace Heather was giving him stopped him in place and he just mumbled out a quick "nevermind" before hiding his face from her. Hector snorted through another bite. So much for not seeming... cocky.

Rebecca's awkward laugh seemed to spur Heather into action. "Speaking of balls, Hector we have that um... thing... yeah, sorry dudes I just dont wanna be here with all this," she waved her hand in front of Greg and Rebecca's faces, "At least not until you guys figure out what this even is. It's been like 5 months." Hector nodded in agreement, grabbing a handful of food before they said their goodbyes and headed out the door.

Greg looked around the restaurant, aside from the kid he hired to bus the tables and another couple in the room, they were alone.

"Hey, Greg?" Rebecca's voice was soft and sad and she fiddled with her fingers in her lap.

"Yeah?" he croaked, his eyes staring intensely at the pattern on the table as he tried his best to keep his face stoic and his body stiff.

She didn't say anything for what felt like an hour, and he jolted at the feeling of her soft palm against his cheek. She gently turned his face to hers and there it was again, that stupid fucking thumping in his chest that he was almost positive the couple on the other side of the room could hear.

"I'm really sorry it's taken me so long," she whispered, and Greg felt himself leaning in to inhale her words. But her words didn't seem like what he wanted to hear right now. He didn't want to hear that she was sorry, that only meant bad things coming next. Sorry Greg, I don't really want you after all, she would probably say. You're just not my type anymore. You're so boring now.

He was the same person, he would swear on it. He just didn't feel the need to spew out every dark and brooding thought in his mind, and he was just... happier. He didn't have the alcohol in his veins to push him towards the edge of entertaining and chaotic, but that didn't make him boring, right?

Before he could put more thoughts into his head of things Rebecca never actually said or insinuated, he felt the electricity against his other cheek where Rebecca's lips were now residing.

And what could he do when he had been waiting for this moment so long? How could he stop himself from turning his head towards hers and taking her head into his hands? And how could anyone even think that he would be able to stop himself from crushing their lips together? It was all he had been wanting the past year and a half, all he had been dreaming of.

He loved her so intensely and so deeply and he wanted to show her now that he had his chance, now that he wasn't scared she would dodge his grasp. With one hand curled loosely in her hair, he slid the other one along her waist and reached around to her back so he could pull her closer to him.

She complied with a surprised breathy noise, her head twisting complimentary to his and her other hand clutching at his shirt. They were full blown making out in his restaurant and if he had been an onlooker he would have been embarrassed for them. Two grown ass adults acting like sex-crazed teens in a public restaurant. But he didn't care. He didn't care about anyone but this goddess he held in his arms. He owned the place, anyways.

He felt himself reacting to her touch and kisses deep down within him, and his hand around her waist ventured lower down her body until he reached her hips, digging his fingers into her skin through the light sundress she was wearing today. He wanted her to feel the longing, to feel everything he did through their contact. He wanted to show her more and more as he shifted his legs and tugged her up a bit onto his lap, the booth they were sitting in entirely too small for their bodies.

It was uncomfortable and the edge of the table had to have been digging into her back but she went along with it, one leg bent on the side of his against the booth, the other balanced precariously between his. He needed this, he needed her so bad. His hand traveled up the smooth skin of her thigh slowly, inching closer and closer to –

"I'm so sorry," she huffed, catching her breath for a moment before untangling herself from him. If nobody could tell how much of an effect she had on him, they could in that moment because the immediate response he had to her absence was a pathetic whimper.

"Rebecca," he groaned and followed her like a puppy, his lips capturing hers again, more urgently and longing after losing what they had just had. She gave in for just the smallest second before she pushed his shoulders back away from her.

"Greg. Stop."

He exhaled a heavy sigh and leaned back against the booth, his eyes closed because honestly he couldn't face the shame of the 3 people in the restaurant most likely staring at them. And he couldn't dare look at Rebecca right now.

"This was a mistake, I'm so sorry."

For the first time in months he couldn't tell you the exact moment Rebecca walked out of his restaurant. He couldn't tell you if she was disheveled in the most delicious way, or if she looked back at him like she always did before she went home. None of it mattered anyways, because Rebecca didn't want him after all.

It was a mistake, she said. His feelings for her were a mistake. He spent all this time waiting despite telling her he wouldn't. He had self-sabotaged himself on so many dates the past year and a half, he had so many failed attempts at relationships because the feelings were never there and the sex was nowhere near as good.

They had been in such a good spot and he had to go and fuck it up again. Good job, Serrano.

A small notification tone in the darkness of his bedroom woke him up from his half-sleep. It was most likely nothing, but on the off-chance it was a text from Rebecca he always checked straightaway. He hadn't actually spoken to her or seen her in a few weeks, and though it was driving him crazy he just couldn't muster up the strength to put himself out there again.

He knew it was his own fault, she was being a good friend, a good person. He wanted to scoff at that thought because just a few years ago he never would have called her that. A few years ago he was also having the time of his life in the bedroom with a woman who was literally perfect for him. Before he fucked that up too, of course.

"Ugh," he groaned, rubbing his face roughly with both hands in a pitiful attempt to wipe some of the self-deprecation out of his head.

When he finally got past the disapproval of his thoughts that had been all-too present the past few weeks, he reached for his phone, clicking the screen on. Rebecca Bunch has posted a new photo, it read and his stomach twisted in anticipation as he swiped his lock screen and opened up facebook.

It was a selfie of Rebecca at her keyboard with sheet music sprawled out and a glass of red wine in her hand. She was clearly in pajamas and not dressed up at all, but she looked stunning. Long night, lots on my mind, but lots of material to work with!

He sighed and set his phone down beside him. In her spare time when she wasn't working at Rebetzel's she had been doing side jobs to fuel her creativity. She helped out at the local theater community, often coming up with new songs for productions they were putting on. It was adorable and she was always way too excited to share everything with him. Sometimes he had even helped. He wanted to know what she was working on right now, the sheet music in the picture was blurry from the distance but it didn't look similar to the other stuff Rebecca had been working on in his restaurant when she would come in.

He missed her. It was only a couple weeks since he'd seen her or talked to her, but it might as well be agony for him. In the past year and a half they had still been in relative contact, even if it was just when Rebecca would ask him for help with her writing, or if she started a random game of Words With Friends. She was always the one to initiate things because even though he wanted to be around her all the time, he knew she needed space and he was respecting that.

Well, respecting it up until he invaded her boundaries like a fucking asshole. Could he for like, two seconds not ruin his own life?

Greg picked up the phone again, taking in her face one more time before lazily tapping the Like button and tossing his phone aside.

It beeped almost immediately and he raised an eyebrow, checking it curiously. It was a facebook message from Rebecca. His palms suddenly felt very shaky and sweaty and he shifted up in his bed.

Do you ever sleep, Serrano?

Says the one literally drinking a glass of wine at 1am.

Fair point.

Greg smiled, sinking back into his pillows with his phone unnecessarily close to his face as he tapped away at the screen.

How's the writing coming along? If you're looking for a ghost writer I'm sure I can come up with some ghoulishly good lyrics.

Ha ha ha... Truth be told I think I'm a bit stuck. There's stuff I want to say, the words just won't come out...

You can't force it out of the closet, Bunch. Geeze, have some respect.

Funny, Serrano, didn't realize you were such an activists for gay rights!

I'm full of surprises.

Fabulous. I guess that explains the close "friendship" with WhiJo.

C'mon now, just because we spend long hours together exhausting ourselves with our bodies doesn't mean what you think it does!

Don't worry, no judgment here. ;)

He chuckled, wondering if this meant they were gonna be okay. She wouldn't strike up conversation unless she forgave him, right? Maybe she would. Maybe she was trying to lure him back in so she could catch him and drug him and tie him up for a snuff film. Yeah, she had changed but had she really changed?

Greg rubbed at his eyes, honestly wondering why he was even trying to be a normal person with totally normal thoughts when he was so sleep deprived. Back to Rebecca, the real one... He still wanted to apologize to her and see where they stand now. Hopefully they could resume their friendship, or maybe if luck was in his favor she'd want to try things again...

Hey, what are you doing tomorrow? Wanna get coffee?

I can't. AJ had a thing come up and I couldn't find anyone to cover for him so it's all me tomorrow. Rain check?

Oh yeah, of course. No problem we have lots of time to talk.

Great. Well I should try to get some sleep. Thanks for the chat.

Goodnight, Bunch.

Goodnight, Serrano.

Anxious, unsure eyes stared back at Greg in the mirror of his bathroom as he smoothed the sides of his hair down with his fingers. He had hardly slept last night, his brain filled with thoughts of a certain brunette. He was going to make an effort, and hopefully it paid off.

One last double check that he was wearing something that made him look somewhat decent and his hair wasn't fucked up, and Greg was out the door with a spring in his step. It was nearing 10am and it took lots of steady breathing techniques and conjured imaginary versions of his friends giving him pep talks to relax and play it cool. Although the last time he took advice from Hector that turned into a mess. Just be yourself, he thought to himself. Rebecca likes you when you're not being a pretentious dick. A small smirk crossed his face and he could help but think about a time when Rebecca couldn't get enough of his pretentious dick.

In a little under 30 minutes Greg had made it to the coffee shop near Rebetzel's and grabbed their favorite drinks. He liked visiting Rebecca at the pretzel shop, but it wasn't guaranteed when she'd actually be there and he hated the awkward conversation he'd have to have with AJ before excusing himself.

Greg pulled open the door of the building and stepped inside, spotting Rebecca immediately at one of the small white tables, biting at the eraser of her pencil as she focused on a notebook in front of her. She was adorable, and the memories of the two of them kissing at these same tables pushed itself to the front of his mind. If only, he sighed to himself.

"Writing in your diary again?"

Rebecca jumped in her seat, turning to face him with wild eyes before she relaxed in her seat with a smile on her face. "Har har! On the contrary Gregory, I'm thinking of new pretzel ideas."

Greg chuckled, placing their coffees on the table as he took a seat. "Same thing then, right? I bet that's all your high school diaries are filled with."

She smiled despite the roll of her eyes and took a quick sip of her coffee. "Oh yes, my teen dream was to become and artisan pretzel maker. My whole life has been leading up to the creation of the absolute perfectly addictive pretzel. Nobody can say no to it, in theory."

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at her. "Why is it so addictive?"

"Drugs," she supplied instantly.

"Drugs," he repeated slowly. She nodded matter-of-factly. "So your future pretzel hit is gonna be a concoction of 'drugs'. I'm surprised the FBI isn't here because that sounds like a weapon of mass destruction."

She laughed and shoved his arm before she took another sip of her coffee. "Mmm, this is good. Thank you." He didn't reply with words, just with a warm smile and a sip of his own coffee. "What brings you to this part of town? Did you come to try and steal my secret recipe for pizza pretzels for your restaurant?"

"Tempting, truly. But I just wanted to see you." His voice came low and soft through his calm smile. Rebecca watched him carefully, her face taking on a pink tint that was barely noticeable.

"You're too good for me, Greg," Rebecca mumbled, her brow furrowed and her gaze facing down at her coffee lid with far too much intensity than it should ever receive.

"If you keep thinking like that you'll never be happy."

Her eyes shifted up to meet his for a quick moment before she looked away. "It's true. I've grown a lot but I've still got issues."

Greg reached out a pulled her hand into his, stroking his thumb along her skin. "Rebecca, God, you know I hate this phrase but it's so true sometimes. Nobody's perfect."

She smiled sadly at him, and pulled her hand out of his. "I'm not perfect for you, though. You deserve someone... better."

He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, undoing the work he had done this morning to keep the curls smoothed out. "No offense, Bunch, but you don't get to tell me what is and isn't right for me."

"That's not what I meant," she started, obviously uncomfortable.

His eyes met hers and she actually didn't shy away from his intense gaze. He reached a hand up to brush the stray strands of hair that settled in front of her face and let it rest against her cheek. "I love you," he said resolutely and so sure that she had to believe him. He could try to convince her all he wanted but until she believed it herself nothing would change.

Rebecca's eyes closed when the look he was giving her became too much. She leaned into his touch and for a second he thought maybe this was it. Maybe she was finally giving in and choosing him. Slowly Greg leaned closer and pressed his lips against the top of her head in a soft loving kiss for a beat or two, before resting his forehead to hers.

"You don't have to say anything. I know I'm kind of just springing this on you, but I just want you to know. I need you to know how I feel. I used to be so bad about talking about how my feelings and now boom. Here I am, raw and out in the open," he scoffed. "You think you're not perfect for me, Rebecca, but I know you are. When I dream about who I want to spend the rest of my days with it's always you, no contest. I know I said I wouldn't wait back then, and I didn't, but I'm willing to wait now if you want me to."

He watched as Rebecca's closed eyes tightened shut even more, like she was trying to fight off tears and he brushed a thumb against her cheek. Finally, she met his eyes with her own and they were so close to his he felt like he was drowning. She still didn't seem ready to talk yet. He hadn't meant for this to be a... thing today. He just came for coffee and her company, and maybe a glimmer of hope.

Since she still remained quiet, he pressed on. "I'm not trying to force anything on you, and I'm sorry if it feels this way. God, look at what you've done to me Bunch, you've turned me into a teenager."

At that, she laughed and pulled back a bit to wipe at her eyes that had now started to pool with moisture. His forehead felt cold without hers against it but he would live.

"I bet teenage Greg was adorable."

"Oh yeah, I was a real Casanova. Afro, pimples and all." He wagged his eyebrows at her, biting his lip in a fake attempt to be suave. She nudged his shoulder lightly as she always did.

"I dont want to lead you on," she began, and her smiled faded. "I really love you too, Greg. Sometimes it takes so much discipline to keep myself out of your restaurant every day. I keep myself extra busy so I have an excuse to not be there."

Greg watched her, his eyes widening slightly at her disclosing her own inner turmoil. He wished he had seen her every day the past year and a half.

"I just dont want to jump back into things too soon. It was so hard back then, trying to choose between you, Josh and Nathaniel." Greg winced, the thought of her being with either Josh or Nathaniel reopening the dull wound he didn't realize was still there. Honestly he would never be over it until she did finally choose him. If she wanted to. "Like I said, I've still got my issues."

"I'd love to read them," he interjected, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He could tell she was starting to cave in on herself and he started to feel guilty for overwhelming her with everything.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Let me rephrase, I've got a garage full of novels."

"I'm a quick reader."

"Gregory."

"Okay, okay! Look Rebecca, you know how I feel now. And I know how you feel, kinda. When I said you didn't have to say anything I meant it. I know you're still conflicted, and I don't mean over who to choose. Just... with yourself. And I get it, trust me I do. Recovery was intense, and that wasn't with some creepy dude fawning all over me all the time."

She laughed again and gave him a sweet smile. "You're not creepy. But only because I'm attracted to you. If I thought you were ugly then oof you can bet I'd already have a restraining order."

"Cute? I'll take it," he grinned and placed another kiss on her forehead before sitting back in his seat, the air between them feeling lighter already.

"Man I've never had coffee this heavy before."

He wanted to make some stupid joke about going to the gym or something, but when he looked into her eyes he couldn't help but blurt out "I love you." Jesus, it was like he no longer had a stopper on that phrase and it was pouring out of him like hot water. Or hot coffee. He eyed his coffee suspiciously for a moment.

"I love you, too. I'll be ready some day," Rebecca promised.

"I'll wait."

And he would. He had all of his life to be with her, and if he had to wait a little bit for her to realize it, then what was a few months give or take ten years?

Rebecca smiled shyly up at him and Greg brought the coffee to his lips, taking a sip as their eyes stayed connected. He could do this forever. He could sit in her presence and just exist and be happy.

"I never did find out what you were writing in your diary when I came in."

Rebecca rolled her eyes and pushed his shoulder again before turning the notebook to him, going over the lyrics she was adjusting for some new performance she had been asked to help with. The lights of her pretzel shop danced in her eyes as she spoke so animatedly about her passion and Greg felt that gross disgusting warmth of happiness spread through his chest and infect his brain again.