Primo glowered at his phone's screen. He waited for Amara's reply but it didn't come. She'd never leave him hanging like this. What was she doing?

He went to the kitchen where his mother was currently laying out the chocolate chip cookies she had baked. He jumped and sat on the counter, snatching two of the first batch.

"I see you, dear. That's not for you," Vida Luchenko mumbled as she eyed his son.

"It's for those kids again? Geez." He rolled his eyes and continued eating more. His mom's advocacy meant less time for him but Primo knew that her happiness meant a lot to his dad. Therefore, it also meant a lot to him despite his tendency to get jealous.

"What are you even doing here? It's rare to see you not out of the house during weekends."

"Amara's ignoring me."

"Ah, your babysitter is not around." She shot him a teasing look. "What? You can't date without her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mom. I have a girl I'm seeing."

"Hmm. I don't understand why you kept dating and dating and not introduce them as a girlfriend." Vida whirled to him. "Are you waiting for Amara or something?"

"Mother!" Primo groaned. "Don't push it. I just told you I'm seeing someone."

Her mother chuckled, eyes twinkling in amusement. "You boys can't see what's right in front of you."

Primo left the kitchen, disregarding his mother's words. He decided to go to the arcade anyway. Maybe one of his teammates could join him.

"Sir! I think these are for you!" A maid jogged towards him with a bunch of letters in her hand.

He accepted it, frowning at the stack of letters. "What? People still send letters?"

Primo sighed before he read who the sender was.

Antonio Pavlov.

"Well, shit." He crumpled the letters and pushed them down the trash. If his day started bad, then receiving something from his biological dad made it worse.

Unbelievable. How dare he contact him after what happened?

'we're at the mall'

A sense of relief washed over him with Amara's reply. He resolved to forget his worries and head straight to the mall.

Primo found Amara and the boys at their favorite steak house. He approached his best friend from behind, flicking her ear.

Amara rolled her eyes and pushed a plate next to her. "I ordered for you. Well done. Hurry up."

He sat and they ate with conversations about sport and Aiken and Axel's unending praise for the setter guy.

"Who's this guy?"

"Some rude college guy," Amara shrugged. "He's hot though."

Primo scoffed at her words. "Can we go to the arcade now?"

Amara eyed him with suspicion before she told the boys to meet her at the parking lot after an hour.

They played at the arcade and he shot hoops while Amara got obsessed over the claw machine. She got fed up and joined him after a little while.

"What's wrong?" she asked, grabbing a ball from him.

"Nothing," he answered and took a shot.

"Primo..."

The softness of her voice made him turn to her. Amara licked her lips as she placed a hand on his arm. He let out a soft sigh. "It's my—"

Amara gasped as her silver eyes widened at something behind her.

He moved to look when Amara clasped both of her palms on his cheeks. He blinked. "What?"

"Uhm, just look at me."

Primo chuckled as he brought their faces closer. He stared at her blue-gray eyes, their foreheads touching. "What now?"

She grappled for words, a faint blush appearing around her neck.

"Amara?" he coaxed.

"You're... you're tall," she muttered.

He smirked. Primo seldom see Amara rattled much less embarrassed. He didn't even know what was happening but he liked it. It made him forget Antonio Pavlov. It made him forget everything except her.

"I am quite tall, aren't I?" He teased, tugging at a stray hair that escaped from her ponytail.

Amara scoffed, flicking his hand away and he knew that his fun was over. Too bad.

"Let's go," she declared.

"Where to?" He followed her as she walked with purpose. Primo reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Amara, you're acting weird."

Amara's jaw clenched with determination. She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow. "Isn't that Natasha?"

Primo swiveled and saw Natasha coming out of a store. The girl had told him that she was busy. "Ah, yes."

"I'll go ahead then."

He narrowed his eyes at his best friend. "Why do you automatically assume I would ditch you to be with her?"

"If that isn't the first thing on your mind, then I know I have the right to worry," she replied.

Primo sensed her extreme distress over the situation. "I thought you liked her?"

Amara looked away. She tilted her chin, glaring ahead. "I like her as a person. I don't like her as a girlfriend."

She breathed roughly through the nose, turning to him. "I'm on your side, Primo. That's why I'm telling you to spend time with Natasha."

Primo clicked his tongue. He didn't want her angry. The last time they fought, his brain almost burst from thinking of all the ways he could appease her.

But she was right. As always.

He wasn't allowed to put Amara first. That wasn't his job. Not anymore.

Primo resisted the urge to cry at the thought of explaining how he liked his steak done to a new person.

What a pain.

✘✘