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"Well, what's your favorite thing to eat here?" she asks, switching the subject. "There are so many options on here that I don't know how to choose."
We spend the next hour talking about different topics, favorite music, favorite foods, and favorite movies. Watching the way she talks animatedly about things she loves fills my chest with warmth. The longer I sit here with her, the harder it is for me to believe that she's a potential terrorist. Her body language is open and accepting, making it clear that everything she's saying and how she portrays herself is genuine. Even with all the conversations I've overheard from her today, nothing sticks out that labels her as a threat. It only makes me that much more happy to know that I didn't kill her earlier, even more so now that I'm getting to know the woman she truly is.
"Thanks for taking me out," she says as I walk her to her car. "It's kind of weird to call it dinner since it's so early in the day still, but I enjoyed it."
"Me too," I reply with a nod. "Maybe we can do it again soon."
"I'd like that." She shyly tucks a lock of golden hair behind her ear. "I guess I'll text you later?"
"Sure." I hesitate for a moment before I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to her lips. I know it's probably the last thing I should've done since she's still a target, but her lips practically call out to me each time she licked them or nibbled on her bottom one. "See you around."
She looks up at me with wide eyes, her cheeks growing pink by the second. "Bye," she murmurs.
I turn on my heels and head back to my own car with a grin on my face. Even though I'm excited about the progress I'm making with her, that nagging voice in my head constantly reminds me that I still have a mission to complete. I get into my car and watch as she slips into her driver's seat. I can still smell her perfume even when she isn't near me. She's already snaking her way into my senses and my thoughts quicker than I'm prepared for.
"As perfect as you are, I need to figure out what you're up to," I murmur to myself as I continue watching her. I can't allow myself to get sucked up into her charm and beauty, not when so much is at stake.
But that doesn't mean I can't have a little bit of fun in the meantime, and after that brief kiss, I can already imagine the kind of fun we can have.
6
MORGAN
"You've got to be kidding me," I whine in frustration. I turn my key in the ignition again, only to be met with a clicking sound as my car fails to start. A sudden tap on my window causes me to jump, and I clutch my chest, looking up to find Trent standing there.
"Everything okay?" he asks. He steps back as I open my door and step out of the car.
"Car won't start again." I wrap my arms around myself. "It's fine, though. I'll just call my dad, and he can get this situated."
"I can give you a lift home if you want," he offers, thumbing over his shoulder at his car. I shake my head.
"Oh no, that's okay. It's kind of a far drive?—"
"It's really not a huge deal." He interrupts. "It's not like I have anything else planned for the rest of the day besides thinking about the date we just had."
I blush and giggle. This man is a complete mystery. He's so nice and sweet but there are also things about him that don't add up. I look back at his expensive-looking Mercedes. When I first met him, he told me he worked odd jobs in order to provide for himself. To see him driving the same make and model as my neighbor—who was an investor—makes me wonder just what hedoes for work to be able to afford such a car. A part of me feels as if he's hiding something, which does nothing but stoke my curiosity and need to be around him.
"Okay, fine. But don't try to stalk me later once you learn my address," I tease, pointing at him. He clutches his chest once again with a grin.
"You wound me once again. That's twice now," he replies, making me laugh.
The inside of the car smells just like him, woody with hints of sandalwood and leather. The interior is just as nice and sleek as the exterior, and I'm actually a little relieved. It's nice to be around a guy who at least appears to have some kind of money. Ever since I started my social media journey, it's been hard finding guys who aren't trying to use me for clout or because of the money I make. But I can't help but to wonder what it is exactly that Trent does to be able to afford this kind of car based on what he'd told me before.
"Is this a rental?" I ask, trying to ease into the conversation.
He shakes his head as he fiddles with the radio. "Nope, all mine."
"Wow." I look around. "It's really nice. Your odd jobs must pay awfully well. I'm sure this car cost you a fortune."
He tenses up a little but quickly regains his composure. "Yeah, I manage to get pretty lucky."
"What kind of jobs do you do if you don't mind me asking?"
"Oh man, I love this song," he says instead, turning up the radio. "Have you ever heard it?"
I listen to the unfamiliar country song before shaking my head. He sings along to it, grinning at me as he does so, but I can't help but think he's doing it on purpose to change the subject. Though I let the topic go for now, I certainly won't forget it.
The ride to my house is relatively quiet aside from his occasional bad singing, and soon enough, we're pulling into my driveway. Thankfully, my father isn't standing in the window, but to my surprise, Trent turns the engine off and gets out of the car. I scramble out of the passenger seat, looking over my shoulder at my house before turning back to him with wide eyes.
