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The waitress interrupts us. She arrives with my food and places it in front of me, but I am yet to unlock my eyes from Gracie’s. A small smile toys at the corner of her round lips and she lowers her sunglasses back down, shielding her gaze again.
“Those hash browns might just make me throw up,” she says, wrinkling her nose at my food.
“These hash browns, for your information, are my comfort food,” I say, pointing my knife defensively at her.
I am too hungry not to immediately tuck in, and she watches in repulsion with her hand over her mouth.
“This omelet would cure your hangover,” I say after a while. I’ve already scoffed all the hash browns, so she ain’t getting those. “And since I’m now trying so hardnotto be selfish, I’ll even let you have some.” I suggestively push the plate with half the omelet remaining toward her.
Gracie makes a smallhumphin defeat before pushing her sunglasses up into her hair and pulling the plate toward her. As she lifts the first bite to her mouth, she takes a deep breath. It’s like I’m offering her roadkill off the freeway.
“Just eat it already.”
She groans, then shoves the forkful of omelet into her mouth and chews at lightning speed with her eyes closed. She gags, and I crack into laughter before pulling my plate back.
“You aren’t getting to waste good food, even if you’re going to act like it physically pains you to eat it.”
“But itdoesphysically pain me to eat it,” she argues. She shudders dramatically and dabs at her lips with a napkin.
I polish off the remainder of the omelet and the rest of my third cup of coffee, then clear the table to one side. Now that I’m fed and caffeinated, I mean business. I hunch forward and fold my arms in front of me on the table. “Can we rewind a sec? The reason I invited you here is because I feel weirdly .?.?. comfortable. With you. And I feel like you’re someone I can be around without having to act like everything is okay right now. But the reasonyoucame is because you want me to teach you how to be selfish?” I raise an eyebrow at her again, waiting for confirmation.
“That sounds insulting, I’m sorry,” she says, shyly biting her lower lip. “And also kind of stupid. You know what? Ignore me. I have no idea what I’m even doing right now.”
“No, I get it,” I say, glancing down at my lap. I always feel bare in my uniform without my duty belt. “You need to put yourself first and I need to put .?.?. someone else first.”
“I’ll be your guinea pig.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’m serious,” says Gracie. Her features sharpen.
“What?”
“You walked me to my door last weekend,” she says, “and it seemed like you did care when you asked last night how things with Luca were. That leads me to believe that you’re capable of being a decent boyfriend. Whether that’s to your ex, or someone else entirely, I don’t know. But you can practice with me.”
I don’t hide my laughter from her, but I do rein it in when her solemn expression doesn’t falter. This girl is full of wild ideas that don’t make much sense to me. “Okay, I am officially too tired to havethisconversation with you. I’m going home to sleep.”
Gracie clicks her tongue, shaking her head in dismay. “See, this is where you need some guidance. You have a hungover girl in front of you. Think, Weston. What would a caring man do?”
“Take you home to your apartment?” I guess. Where did this examination come from? I don’t think I was the worst boyfriend in the world. Selfish, but never callous. I cared for Charlotte – I just didn’t show it.
“A reasonable suggestion,” Gracie says, then cocks her head to the side, her gaze softly confident. “But I’d much prefer more coffee.”
I heave a sigh, still rather confused by what she expects of me right now. I’m too tired to play this game, but maybe it’s not theworstidea in the world. Surely, I’m capable of putting someone else first.
“Gracie,” I say with a smile, “would you like to come back to my place for more coffee?”
“Now you’re getting it. Let’s go,” she says.
As she stands from the booth, she beams with a radiant grin. She’s got me right where she wants me, and it’s the first time I’ve seen her smile wide like that. It leaves me dazed in the booth, looking up at her with a sense of awe. She has a gorgeous fucking smile. It travels all the way to her eyes, the pale blue sparkling.
“C’mon, Officer Reed,” she says, clapping her hands together to hurry me up.
I glance down at my name badge, like I’ve forgotten my own last name. I’m just tired. I throw some bills on the table and force myself upright. How the hell am I supposed to get some decent sleep when Gracie is coming home with me?
“I’m parked around the corner,” I tell her as we head for the door, and I make sure to hold it open for her. “But if you dare throw up in my car, then you can forget this little idea of yours.”
And as she walks outside, she looks up at me from beneath her long eyelashes and says, “If Idothrow up, just know a caring man would hold my hair back for me.”
