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Her head twisted to regard me, then she beamed. “Actually, I can help with that!”
Then she whipped out an ID badge.
“Is that you?” I asked, unsure since I couldn’t see the whole photo with how she was holding the card.
“My best friend, Shayne.” She smiled. “She got a new one the other day, and so I pilfered this one. I should be able to get us a discounted lunch at least.”
She was so fucking cute.
“Where would you like to go?” I asked curiously.
“Literally we could walk all over this airport and still have a couple of hours to kill,” she pointed out. “There’s a place right down here that sells chicken. Then we could go to the pilots’ lounge.”
“You’re a little bit wild, aren’t you…” I left the question open ended, hoping she’d give me her name.
She laughed and held out her hand to me. “Ande.”
I took her hand, which felt fucking tiny in mine, and said, “Keene.”
Her eyebrows went up at the mention of my name. “That’s an interesting name.”
“I’m fairly sure that my parents made it up,” I admitted, hoping that she wouldn’t ask about either of my parents.
I didn’t talk to my mother, and really kind of hoped that in whatever drug-induced state she was in, I wouldn’t have to deal with her ever again. And if my father wasn’t already dead as fuck, I’d kill him again.
“Well, my mom wanted Andrea, and my dad wanted a boy, so neither one of them got what they wanted. Hence Ande.” She tossed me a quick smile before pointing out a Chipotle.
“How about there?”
I grimaced. “They always gyp me on protein,” I grumbled. “But man, if that was a Freebirds World Burrito, I would’ve gone there in a heartbeat.”
She looked me up and down, then snorted. “No, we can’t gyp you on your protein.”
Together we walked for what felt like forever, checking out almost every single restaurant in the entire airport, before we decided with Chick-Fil-A.
“I love God’s chicken,” she said as she sat down.
“It is pretty damn good,” I admitted. “Though it’s never enough.”
She smirked at me. “You’re telling me that the three chicken sandwiches you ordered aren’t enough?”
I shrugged. “I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re definitely a big boy,” she agreed.
“You don’t seem very intimidated,” I found myself replying.
Most women found my size overwhelming.
“I have seven brothers, Keene. When I say that there’s probably not anything you can do to me that they haven’t done first… it’d be an understatement,” she pointed out.
I leveled her with a look that clearly said what I was thinking, and she waved her hand. “Well, there are some things…”
“Oh, gross!” she cried, looking horrified. “Not that!”
“Gross at the thought of me doing it… or gross at the thought of them?” I teased.
She mimed puking.
