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"Because you said looks matter," Simon replied, stopping his drumming and looking over at me. "And you're beautiful. So why would you be afraid to perform in front of people?"

My breath caught at his statement. The fact that Simon thought I was beautiful took my breath away. I thought I was passably attractive, but I often felt like I was drab and faded into the background. The fact that I cultivated this image didn't help my looks. But having someone like Simon think I was beautiful was hard for me to process. If I was being honest with myself, it wasn't because it was someone as good looking as Simon telling me this. It was because it was Simon telling me this. From the moment I had met him, I had felt an instant connection to him, beyond having seen him in a vision.

I forced myself to laugh. "You'd change your mind if you ever heard me sing," I said. I leaned forward and started scanning through the radio stations to distract myself. "Anyways, luckily I'm ravenous and the Cove is great. I haven't been there in a while because I always seem to end up at Colette's when I eat out, even when I'm not working there."

Simon just smiled and I turned up the radio as a favorite Radiohead song came on. We spent the rest of the car ride listening to the local alternative station, commenting on the songs that played, until we turned into the parking lot of the Cove.

The Cove was a cozy restaurant that specialized in Italian cuisine but it also had a great brunch. Before I finished unbuckling my seat belt, Simon had bounded around the car to open my door.

"Thanks," I said with a smile. "You really are a gentleman."

"What can I say," Simon said with a wink. "My momma raised me right."

"Mmm," I murmured in reply as I stepped out of the car.

The Cove was already half full even though it was pretty early for brunch. Since it was in a college town, and college students seemed to think waking up before noon on a Saturday was unthinkable, a lot of the restaura

nts didn't get crowded until later in the afternoon. I saw a good number of locals in the restaurant, with a smattering of students.

We were seated in a corner booth and our waitress' eyes latched onto Simon the moment she came over. She looked our age, which was common since a lot of the restaurants near campus employed students.

"Hi," she said breathily, her gaze locked solely on Simon. She laid a menu in front of each of us, although I had to grab mine before she hit me in the face with it, since she was just shoving it in my general vicinity and not actually looking in my direction.

"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically, but I might as well have been invisible for all the notice that she gave me.

Our waitress leaned her hip against the table, a smile on her face that I assumed was supposed to be seductive. I should have been insulted by her actions, considering Simon and I were here together and it would be a pretty easy assumption to make that we were a couple. But the outlandish batting of her eyelashes made me suppress a laugh instead. Anyways, we weren't a couple.

"Hi," Simon said, not looking up and scanning the menu.

"My name is Crystal. I'll be your server today," she said, tilting her head and letting her blonde hair graze her cheek, trying for what I thought was a coquettish smile. I cringed as I watched her. Was this considered flirting? I was happy that I had never really engaged in it if it made you look this dumb. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

Simon looked up from perusing the menu and smiled at me. "What do you want to drink?" I wasn't sure if he was completely oblivious to Crystal's efforts or if he was just ignoring it. I figured it was the latter since you would have had to be deaf and blind to not notice Crystal trying to get his attention.

I shifted my gaze to Crystal. "I'll have a coffee, please. And I already know what I want to order. I'll have the Eggs Benedict."

Crystal reluctantly turned to me. "Okay," she said, with a hint of surliness as she jotted my order down on her notepad. She turned back to Simon and her whole demeanor changed. "What about you?" she asked with a suggestive smile.

Simon looked up at her, expressionless. "I'll have a coffee, too. And I'll take the Ploughman's Platter. Eggs scrambled. Wheat toast. Thanks." He reached for my menu and placed it on top of his, handing them to Crystal and then looking at me, clearly dismissing her.

Crystal pursed her lips in displeasure and stalked away. She was a pretty girl and probably made a lot of tips because of it. A male customer showing complete indifference was most likely an anomaly for her.

"Great," I said with a snort. "I don't know if she's just going to spit in my food or yours too. This is what I was talking about. Hanging girls."

Simon grinned and shrugged lightly. "I can't say anything without perpetuating this idea of yours that I have a big ego so I'll just keep silent on that topic."

I laughed. Simon was a contradiction on so many levels. There were times when he seemed so full of himself, but other times when he could be self-deprecating. I had a hard time trying to determine which was the real Simon.

"What's a Ploughman's Platter anyway?" I asked. "It sounds intimidating."

"It's eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, toast and a side of pancakes," Simon replied. "I figure it's enough to tide me over till dinner."

"Ugh," I said, grossed out. "You're going to have a coronary eating all that. Where do you put it all anyways?" There wasn't an ounce of fat on his body from my vantage point.

Simon patted his flat stomach. "Right here. I'm still a growing boy."

I smirked. "You better be careful. No one likes a fat rocker. You don't want to have to rename your band the Paunchmen."

Simon laughed and shook his head. "I must really like you. Either that or I'm a masochist."

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