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I stop as she spins around on the sidewalk and I ask her if she’s ready. “Countdown starts when you go.”
Brynn nods, inhaling before she takes off, running backward as fast as her feet can carry her, which isn’t very fast at all. I nearly laugh as I hold my fingers up in the air, counting her head start out loud. “One. Two . . . Nine. Ten!”
And I’m off.
With my arms bent at my side, I start jogging and quickly begin to close the distance when Brynn squeals and picks up the pace. “You’re going down, Cupcake!”
I dodge a fire hydrant and Brynn nearly falls on a massive crack in the sidewalk.
I pull ahead slightly despite her valiant effort. Several people curse as we nearly plow into them. Brynn misses getting herfoot caught in a bicycle rack by inches, and a yappy chihuahua charges at me on his owner’s leash.
By the time we both reach the restaurant’s entrance, we can barely contain our hysterics. Brynn tips her head back, laughing so hard she gasps for air, and I croak out, “I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu.”
“Ha! Lucky for me, I brought you somewhere cheap.”
I chuckle as my breathing evens out. A lock of hair has fallen out of Brynn’s ponytail, so I smooth it back with my hand, lingering a little longer than I should as her laughter fades. Our eyes lock; the moment feels loaded. Pressure builds inside my chest like the cork on a shaken bottle of champagne.
It wouldn’t take much to set me off, so I drop my hand and clear my throat. “Ready?”
Without waiting for her response, I turn and head for the doors before I do something I’ll regret. Lord knows I’ve done enough of that in the past two weeks, and I’d like to think I’m the kind of guy that can learn from my mistakes.
We enter the restaurant and head to the hostess booth. Since it’s early yet, it’s not very crowded and we don’t have to wait long to be seated.
Our waitress leads us to a small table in the back. The atmosphere is casual with bright lighting, upbeat music, and eclectic patronage. Everyone from families with kids to singles and students occupy the tables, which saves us the awkwardness of feeling like this is a date.
I wonder if that’s why Brynn chose this place.
Not seconds after we sit, Brynn announces she has to use the restroom and as she stands, she asks, “If the waitress comes for our drinks, will you order me a—”
“Coke with lemon? Sure.”
Brynn pauses mid-rise as she stares over at me in surprise. “How did you know?”
I turn my attention to the menu. “I notice a lot of things about you.”
Quite frankly, it’s kind of hard not to. I’ve always noticed Brynn. Does she really think I pay so little attention to her?
She’s still standing across from me, staring at me like she doesn’t know what to make of this revelation. I admit, I’m a little confused by how dumbfounded she is. It’s such a small thing to notice. But I get the sense it kind of freaks her out, so I take pity on her and joke, “It’s an easy thing to remember, since it’s so disgusting.”
“You mean, amazing.” She tips her chin, indignant, and I grin.
“If it’s opposite day, sure.”
She chuckles and shakes her head as she finally heads to the restroom.
Once she’s gone, I inhale, trying to loosen the knot in my stomach. This whole notion of a truce wasn’t even my idea, yet the pressure for it to go well sits inside my chest like a stone. I’ve never cared so much about making a good impression on someone. Hell, I’ve never had to try a day in my life with a girl before. It’s disconcerting.
When the waitress stops at our table, I order Brynn’s drink and get water for myself, trying to ignore her obvious attempts at flirting. By the time Brynn returns from the bathroom, the waitress delivers them, dropping the straws in front of me with a wink.
Brynn watches her go, mouth curling in disgust.
I clear my throat, hoping she doesn’t think I did anything to provoke her, then wonder why the hell I care if she does.
This isn’t a date, jackass.
We take another couple of minutes to go over the menu before the waitress returns for our orders. When I request the lamb kabobs, she leans toward me, her full breasts on display in herlow-cut top. “Large or small? You look like a large to me,” she says with a grin.
I press my lips together.Donotlaugh.
