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Kylee shook her head. “All I can remember is me llama, Kylee.”

Ron felt heat rise to his face as he gazed across the serving table at Kylee. He gave a tug to his collar. Though he’d already loosened his tie, he still found himself a bit breathless in her presence.

“Hi, Principal Kidd.” Molly’s voice was singsong. Her eyes twinkled as she looked between him and her mother. Ron noted that Kylee’s cheeks were flushed too. Was it possible she was feeling the same heat for him that he was feeling for her?

They hadn’t come to any consensus the other night when he’d opened the door to the possibility of them dating. After he made the suggestion, neither of them quite knew what to do next, especially not after Molly had tried her hand at DJing. Ron had left shortly after Kylee had turned the music off. As they’d stood on the stoop of her front porch, the possibilities had lingered between them.

They couldn’t continue the conversation now, not with half the community passing in and out of the restaurant.

Ron piled white rice, pinto beans, and cheese on Molly’s plate, as per her request. When Kylee held out her plate, Ron didn’t wait for instruction. He put soft shells on her plate, brown rice, black beans, and tons of cheese.

“This is exactly what I wanted,” she said bringing the plate up to her nose.

He knew it was. Because he knew her so well. They’d spent many a Friday night at Taco Bell working on college essays and planning for their respective futures.

He took Kylee’s plate from her and plopped down guacamole.

“Hey,” she protested.

“You’re a growing woman,” he taunted, knowing she wasn’t a fan of most green foods. “You need a vegetable.”

“Avocados are a fruit. So are tomatoes.”

She had him there. He hadn’t really cared whether she was eating every food group. He just wanted to keep her company for a little while longer.

“Principal Kidd, you left your watch at our house when you were over last night,” said Molly. The little girl’s voice carried over the Top Forty tunes coming out of the ancient jukebox. A few glances turned their way.

Kylee’s cheeks turned redder than the salsa on her plate. Ron was sure his did as well. And this time he couldn’t blame the burners. But then her gaze met his. Once again, they were the only two people in the room.

“I can drop it off tomorrow,” said Kylee. “Or you can swing by later…?”

Kylee shrugged her shoulders as she let the sentence trail. Ron was mesmerized by that shrug; how her collarbone became more pronounced. One shoulder was higher than the other making an asymmetrical shape that he wanted to measure. By the curve of her lip and the way she looked up at him from beneath her lashes she wanted him to fill in the blank, she’d left.

Ron knew his answer, but before he could complete the request, there was the sound of a throat clearing, followed by the high-pitched voice of an irritated child.

“You’re holding up the line,” said Ricky, Jr.

Ron wasn’t the only teacher manning the food station. There were three others. But of course, Iman Hilson would come to his line expecting special treatment.

“As I live and breathe,” Iman drawled. “If it isn’t Kylee Romano. Oops, I mean Bauer. You did return to your maiden name? Or are you still holding onto his name?”

Kylee had never done fake well. It was why she and Iman rarely crossed paths back in high school. Kylee had seen right through the mean girl’s fake friendliness.

“Nope, it’s Bauer. I smartened up and cut both the name and the man loose.”

“Oh,” Iman pressed her hand to her heart and her face contorted into a compassionate grimace that didn’t reflect in her gaze. “I had heard Jason found someone else.”

Kylee bobbed her head. “He’s probably found a few more someone’s else by now. I’d be happy to be your reference if you want to wait in his line.”

And with that, Kylee turned her back on Iman. But not before giving Ron a quick smile. “See ya?”

Ron couldn’t articulate after that performance. He was too busy trying his hardest not to fist pump Kylee’s retort. But he didn’t need words with Kylee. He knew she saw clearly in his gaze that she would indeed see him later tonight. And tonight, he planned to say every flowery, romantic word he’d ever dreamed of saying to her.

“My dad left a watch collection at my mom’s house,” Ricky, Jr. was saying. “You can come to my house and see it.”

Ron took the kid’s plate and began loading it up. “Why not bring it in for show and tell? With your mom’s permission, of course?”

Ricky nodded as he took his tacos from Ron.

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