Page 205 of Worth the Trip

Landon leaned back and looked again, absolutely shameless. “Aight, Hershey. Keep dressing like home and expecting me to respect geography.”

Heat climbed beneath my skin.

“You’ve seen me in this shirt.”

“Yeah. Last time I could put my hands on you. Current circumstances are hostile.”

“You’ll survive.”

“I got faith.”

“In God?”

“Always. Highway still under review.”

I laughed and started unpacking dinner. “Did you order everything?”

Landon turned his phone toward the table. “Rainbow roll, shrimp tempura, spicy salmon, edamame, miso soup, and that ginger situation you threatened to judge me about.”

“You called pickled ginger palate construction material.”

“I’ve grown.”

“That was Tuesday.”

“Growth can be rapid when properly motivated.”

“What motivated you?”

“You threatening judgment.”

“Healthy fear.”

“Relational accountability.”

“Of course.”

His grin widened. “You ready?”

“For sushi?”

“For our date.”

The distinction softened me immediately.

“Yes.”

“Aight.” He lifted his glass toward the camera. “To our first official long-distance dinner and the woman who stole my shirt.”

I raised mine. “To the man who surrendered clothing voluntarily and has rewritten history ever since.”

“Cheers, baby.”

“Cheers.”

We tapped glasses against screens and laughed at how ridiculous it looked.

Dinner carried us easily after that. We compared restaurants, argued about spicy mayo, and discovered Landon’s chopstick technique was technically functional but overconfident enough to make failure inevitable.