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“When were you going to deliver food?” I already tried to sort out everything in my head. I had an early curfew on school nights, but I could always say I needed to run to the library or something. Needed to work on a last-minute homework assignment with Margot. Whatever the excuse needed to be, I’d figure it out. “What time?”
“Probably around six? That’s usually when the dinner rush picks up.”
Six o’clock on Valentine’s Day. My heart skipped a beat. I rolled the information around in my mind. Curfew was nine on school nights. Plenty of time. “Can I drive?”
His voice sounded curious. “You?”
“I just met you,” I pointed out, folding one arm across my chest. My fingers were getting a little numb. “And even though you’re cute, I’m overly cautious.”
“You think I’m cute?”
I wanted to see his expression so badly, see the teasing amusement dancing like fire in his eyes. Flirting was easier to do over the phone, but I wanted to see every little expression that came with his words. Desperately. “Maybe a little.”
“Well, then.” His words were lowered and rough as if he were speaking barely above a whisper. “How can I say no?”
Every inch of my insides buzzed, jumping for joy.
“You’ve heard of Le Petit Bateau, right? In Addison?”
I nearly snorted. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”
“We could meet there around six tomorrow.”
Sounds perfect, my dreamy thoughts mused, but I put together a cool and casual, “Works for me.”
Just then, the door to the house opened once more, and Mom stuck her head out. “Destelle,” she all but snapped, face creased. “Come inside before you freeze.”
“See you tomorrow,” I blurted, not giving Harry a second to respond before I ended the call and climbed out of the car. Mom glowered at me, our earlier conversation no doubt still running in her head, but I didn’t care. She wasn’t bursting my bubble. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if she really could.
I had a date with Harry Russo tomorrow night—nothing would burst my bubble.
