“Why’s that?” I askplayfully, even though I think I know the reason. I unlock the doors with mykey fob and she climbs into the front seat of my SUV.
“It’s …”
“Not very manly?” Isuggest.
Pink floods overher tanned cheeks. “Kind of? Sorry, am I total bitch? I’m not trying to insultyou.”
I laugh. “Yeah,it’s an SUV, but it’s also a BMW,” I say, sliding my hand over the dash. “Thathas to count for something, right? Leather seating, fully loaded, surroundsound.” I lean over and kiss her just because she looks so gorgeous right nowbecause she feels bad for ragging on my car. “This is actually my work car. Ineed something nice to shuttle around clients from house to house.”
“Ah, okay,” shesays, buckling her seat belt. “That makes more sense.”
“My personalvehicle is a Ford Raptor. Silver with a three-inch lift and black leatherseats, with black spray on bed liner so I can haul around stuff.”
She laughs, a deepand unfiltered laugh that lights me up inside. “Okay, see that’s more of what Ipictured you driving.”
I’m so happy rightnow I could burst. Just shatter into a thousand pieces and ruin the interior ofthis car. I can’t believe I was so nervous to come here today. It was all worthit. Totally worth it.
“Dinner is asurprise, so don’t look,” I say, cupping my phone with one hand as I type inthe GPS coordinates to Campioni’s, the fancy Italian place I looked up onlinelast night. It’s halfway between our hometowns, and the food looks amazing.
“Wait, you alreadyhave dinner planned?” she says, folding her arms over her chest while she sitsback. “I’m impressed.”
I nod. “It’shalfway between our houses.”
She lifts aneyebrow. “Wait… I can’t believe I haven’t asked that yet. Wheredoyou live?”
“In Livingston.”
Now her othereyebrow joins the first one. “Where’s that?”
“Forty-five minutesfrom here.”
“Really?” shesqueals. “That’s awesome!”
“I know. It’s like… fate.” I feel unbelievably lame after I say it, because real men aren’tsupposed to talk about silly things like fate, but she doesn’t look creepedout.
“I’ve spent thiswhole time thinking you lived in El Paso or somewhere really far away from here,”Alexa says.
“I’ve spent a lotof time thinking about you, too,” I say.
A silence settlesbetween us, but it’s more somber than awkward. We still have a lot to talkabout, but I don’t want to get into it now.
“Can we make apromise tonight?” I ask.
“Like what kind ofpromise?” She tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She looks a littleworried about what I might say.
“I know there’s alot to talk about, but before all of that, I just want to spend one perfectdate night with you.” I exhale and glance at her before putting my eyes back onthe road. “Can we do that?”
“Yes,” she says.“In fact, we don’t even have to talk about anything that happened when we firstmet. We can just pretend today was our first meeting.”
“Why’s that?” Iask.
She shrugs.“Because everything else is just so embarrassing.”
“Good thing there’sno embarrassing talk on this date,” I tell her with a grin.
“Thank God,” shesays. “So, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.But I hope you like Italian food.”
