The whole place feels like a dream, like I’m not meant to be here. I’ve never felt so out of place yet so at home at the same time.
But Meadow… She looks like she belongs here. She looks up from the menu and finds me staring at her. One corner of her mouth lifts in a small but knowing smile.
God, she’s so stunning.
I can’t look away. I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m fixated by the way the lights reflect off her dark irises, looking like a blanket of stars beneath her heavy lashes.
What I would give to reach across the table right now, slide my fingers through her hair, and—
My thoughts are cut short as a woman with brunette curls and a friendly smile approaches our table, dressed in a tropical button-up and khaki pants.
“Good evening,” she says warmly. “I’m Keisha, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”
“Hi,” Meadow smiles back, giving the waitress her full attention.
Keisha gestures toward the bar menu. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”
Meadow glances at me. “I was thinking rum punch?”
“Excellent choice,” Keisha nods. “Bambarra rum is a local favorite. And for you, sir?”
“I’ll do the same,” I add with a grin. “Seems wrong not to try it while we’re here.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” Keisha chimes. “And what about an appetizer?”
“Conch fritters,” I say without needing to think. “I’ve been salivating over them ever since I saw the menu online.”
Keisha chuckles. “Ah, checking out the menu ahead of time. Smart thinking.” She gives a quick nod. “Perfect. I’ll be back shortly with your drinks.”
Meadow and I both say thank you at the same time as Keisha turns to walk toward the bar.
When it’s just me and Meadow again, a comfortable silence settles between us. Not awkward or heavy. I’m grateful I addressed what happened at the pool before we got to dinner, because the last thing I want is for tonight to feel tense or full of unspoken words.
I want this to be fun and relaxed. A night where Meadow doesn't feel on edge or uncomfortable. As much as I hate the term ‘friend’ when it comes to her, I want Meadow to know I’m still hers. Not some creep trying to get in her pants after what she went through today.
“You know what I was thinking today?” I ask, leaning my elbows against the table and clasping my hands together.
“What’s that?”
“There’s one thing about you I don’t know,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
Meadow arches a challenging brow. “Oh yeah? Only one?”
“I’m serious,” I smirk. “I feel like I know almost everything about you. We’ve been office-mates and friends for four years. But somehow, I don’t know your favorite book.”
She blinks, surprised as a line forms between her brows. “That’s what you’re curious about?”
“As much as you read?” I shrug. “Yeah. I kind of feel like a shitty friend for not knowing your favorite book.”
She leans back in her chair, eyes drifting toward the canopy of lights above us as she thinks.
“Okay,” she sighs like she’s bracing herself. “But you cannot judge me.”
I toss her a devious grin. “Me? Never.”
She narrows her eyes to little slits. “No, seriously,” she says, pointing at me. “Don’t judge.”
I bite back a laugh.
