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Despite what he thought was an inspiring tone, she still stared doubtfully at him for quite a while. He wasn’t sure why he felt so invested in getting her out for dinner, but he wasn’t going to give up.
“I look like shit,” she finally said.
“You’re beautiful,” he answered.
Her face flickered in a brief frown, but she hid it quickly. “Whatever. I’m starving. Let’s go before I change my mind.”
Gabe stopped himself from raising a fist in triumph.
She slipped on flip-flops, took a hoodie from the closet by the door and grabbed her keys. Her toenails were painted bright blue. Gabe knew it was a bad sign that he found that impossibly cute.
They headed toward a place four blocks away that even Gabe already knew was the best Mexican in town. She had her arms crossed tight again, pushing her breasts up in a way that caught Gabe’s eye.
Damn. There was no way to pretend she hadn’t told him what she’d told him. She clearly wanted to forget, but Gabe might need electroshock therapy to shake last night loose. Are you sure you won’t stay? He was afraid she’d never ask that again.
When they reached a busier street, Veronica pulled her fleece jacket on and tugged up the hood as if she was hiding.
“No one else knows,” he said in a stage whisper.
“I know,” she sighed, “but I’m supposed to have my shit together. I’m not supposed to be the depressed, hungover girl who hides in her house in old yoga pants all day. I really can’t believe I’m dressed like this in front of you, of all people.”
“Me? Why? My hobbies are basically sweating in the woods, reading in my underwear and nerding out on my computer. Flannel shirts and workout gear make up about fifty percent of my closet.”
“Fine, but you’re just...” She waved a hand up and down his body just as she had the night before. “Whatever. I told you last night.”
“Sure, but I thought that was the alcohol talking. Are you saying you really think I’m beautiful?”
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to bring up every word I said last night.”
“Not every word. But that one was pretty good.”
“Like I’m the first girl to call you beautiful,” she muttered.
Gabe laughed. “I swear to God, you’re the first. And probably the last. So let me enjoy it.”
Her face was pink with embarrassment, but she was smiling as Gabe reached for the door of the restaurant and waved her in. “How about a margarita?” he asked with a wink.
“You’re a monster,” she answered, not even looking at him as she breezed past.
“Sorry.”
Service was quick, one of the benefits of living in a tourist town during the off-season. The full-time residents could eat cheap and fast at even the best restaurants because they were dying to get people in.
They both ordered quickly. Gabe got a beer, but Veronica stuck with water. “Lots of water,” she explained to the waiter. She glared at Gabe when he smiled.
“I’m not laughing at you,” he explained. “I’m laughing with you.”
“I don’t think I’ve quite reached the ‘this will be funny someday’ point.”
“Wrong. You already pointed out how funny it was,” he said before he popped a chip into his mouth. “God, they’ve got great salsa.”
She took a bite and closed her eyes. “They really do.”
“This is so much better than anything I could find in Ohio.”
When the waiter brought his beer, Gabe took a long draw before sitting back in his chair. Veronica looked much more relaxed now. And pretty as hell. She’d pushed the hood off when they’d entered the restaurant and her hair was a little...askew. But he liked it. She looked touchable. Flawed. Fuckable.
