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My head snaps over to look at him.
“I could tell you were wondering.” He shrugs and laughs. “I know what you think of me. I know the image I portray when I’m on stage, but I’m not always that person.”
“I know.” But even I know my tone isn’t convincing.
“I’m not sure that you did.” He leans over in the car and gives me a quick kiss. “Now let’s go get some grub.”
We order our tacos and head to a picnic table to sit and wait for them to be ready.
“I’ve never met anyone who eats their tacos so plainly,” he says. “Like damn, woman, do you want anything else on their other than meat and cheese?”
I giggle. “There’s salsa, queso, and lettuce on there too, you know.”
“Oh yes, let’s not forget the lettuce, you little rabbit.” He leans over and taps my nose with his finger.
I love this side of Derek. It’s not one I’ve seen many times. Mostly, he’s serious, or lately, moody. I think the situation with Serena and how to get out of it with everyone’s reputations intact is weighing heavily on his mind.
The counter girl calls our order.
“Be right back,” he says, going to retrieve our food. He stops and has a conversation with her. “But you won’t tell anyone,” I hear him say.
She’s nodding vigorously.
“Do you want me to sign something?” he asks.
More nodding. She leaves the window and comes back with something. Derek chuckles and signs it.
“Let’s not tell anyone that you saw me here, okay?” he says, pointing at me.
More nodding.
I just laugh at him as he’s making his way over to me. He’s shaking his head and laughing as well.
“Get recognized?” I ask him.
“Yep. I asked her not to say anything, though.” He divides up the food while I stare at him. “Don’t worry. We’re safe, I think.”
I dig into my tacos. They’re a lot plainer than his. He left the radishes, jalapeños, and sour cream on. None of that stuff appeals to me.
“What did she ask you to sign?” I finally ask him. I wasn’t going to, but curiosity got the better of me.
“A magazine with Serena and I on it,” he tells me, his face falling.
I don’t say anymore because I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Mmm,” I moan after taking a few bites of a taco. “This is incredible.” When I look over at him, he’s just staring at me with his mouth agape. “What?”
“I’ve never heard you moan before.”
“Um, I think you have. I did last night when you kissed me,” I remind him.
“I don’t think much was registering other than ‘Holy fuck, I’m kissing Audrey,’” he tells me with a smirk.
“No way you felt that about kissing me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He puts his taco down and studies me.
A woman from the restaurant comes over and places a bowl of chips and guacamole down on our table, breaking the moment.
