“Flynn, you’re eating dinner with Minneapolis’ best tour guide. No one can feel sorry for you.” I give him my best flirty grin. Playing hard to get is overrated. Or maybe it’s not. I think he’s been playingmefor the past week, and he’s still doing it.
He chews slowly, studying me. “You did that on our first date too.”
“Did what?” I narrow my eyes.
“You jokingly suggested that I should feel lucky to be with you.”
“Oh, no. I mean. Yeah. I’m totally joking.” I hope he knows I’m kidding. I’m just nervous.
He uses his middle two fingers to slowly wipe his mouth. “Well, you should be serious because I’mseriouslyfeeling lucky to be with you.”
I’m sure my face is every shade of red, unable to hide my attraction to him. “Thank you,” I whisper before clearing my throat. “I feel lucky to be with you too.”
“Liar.” He chuckles, leaning back in his chair.
“I’m not lying.” I reach across the table and hold out my hand.
He stares at it for a minute, like he doesn’t trust me. But as he lifts his gaze to my face, he rests his hand on mine. My fingers tease his wrist, and he does the same to mine.
The chills are real. And those butterflies flutter out of control.
“When are you going to kiss me?” I ask.
My mom said she didn’t play it cool with my dad when they met. I knew I would be different. And I tried to be cool and make Flynn chase me, but I’m failing.
“I don’t know.” He gives me a sexy smirk. “I feel like we missed our first-kiss moment. This attraction now feels worthy of more than a kiss.”
I giggle, sitting back in my chair while grabbing my drink. “We’re not going to walk before we crawl.”
His eyebrows slide up his forehead. “June, are you implying that you want to get on your knees?”
“Oh, my gosh! No.”
Flynn eats up my embarrassment like a second helping of chicken fingers. “Are you done?” He points to my leftover food.
I nod. “It was good, but I’m full.”
“Well, can’t let it go to waste.” He shoves the rest of my fries into his mouth, chews a few times before swallowing, and inhales the rest of my chicken.
It’s hard to keep my smile from faltering. Does he go without food when he runs out of money between paychecks?
“Wanna get out of here?” he asks after downing the rest of his drink and mine.
“Sure.”
When we pull out of the parking lot, I don’t ask him where we’re going. He’s pretty good at surprising me, so I let him take the lead. We end up near the lake. A different lake. He turns onto a street that heads up a steep hill.
“That’s the Rawlings’ mansion.” He points to the right.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Ya think?”
“Of course,” I say. “It has an old charm to it.”
“Yeah, but would you want to live there?”
I shrug. “I mean, I would. It’s just a house.”
