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Chapter 8
“You want to grab a bite?” Walker whispered the words in her ear, and she had to clench her teeth to dampen her shiver.
The game was nearly over—only three more balls needed to be pulled from the cage—but Aja and Walker were so far from winning they’d already given up hope.
“Did you want to go back to Kenny Mack’s?” she asked, keeping her eyes on her sheets.
Walker sighed. “Gram wants to go to Minnie’s.…”
“She’s not going to fake other plans and ditch us this time?”
He rolled his eyes. “Apparently she has a very real hankerin’ for some meat loaf tonight. But if I’m goin’ to eat in a room full of people I can’t stand, I’d at least like to have a friendly face with me.”
“And your grandmother isn’t a friendly face?”
“Not when she’s shoveling ground beef into her mouth she’s not.”
If she went, this would be the second time Walker had convinced her to forgo a home-prepped dinner for restaurant food. Her dinner routine was normally very precious to her. The older she’d gotten, the more she’d come around to her mother’s “I can make it better than them” way of thinking. But here she was considering it anyway because that was what Walker did to her. He was constantly driving her to consider things she hadn’t before.
The man overwhelmed her. The way he smelled, the slight slouch of his shoulders, the way he looked at her so fucking intensely anytime he was within eye range. It was all so much. Her head told her to deny him. To go home and eat the shredded chicken and sweet potatoes she had tucked away in her fridge. But the rest of her, the parts that thumped and beat and pulsed and wetted whenever he was near, screamed at her to do the opposite. To go to that old strip mall diner with him and his grandmother for the chance to be near him a little longer.
It was utterly ridiculous. And she was ashamed of her own weakness as she nodded her head.
“All right, I’ll go,” she whispered. “But only because I want some more cobbler.”
He put a hand to his chest. “I knew you were a woman after my own heart.”
Fuuuuuuuck.
Even nearing 10 P.M. on a Wednesday, Minnie’s Diner was packed. Still, their makeshift host, an obviously disgruntled cashier, managed to secure them a booth against one of the parking lot–facing windows. Aja was surprised when Walker slid into the booth next to her rather than his grandmother. They were even closer than usual. The booth wasn’t large, and with the way her thighs spread, even with her legs closed, it was impossible for him not to brush against her. Neither of them acknowledged their closeness, but somehow that made it even more thrilling.
She picked up her laminated menu with a shaky breath, suddenly reexamining her decision to come out. Aja had grossly overestimated her ability to be near Walker so much without losing her mind. She was so not strong enough to push her lusty feelings down until they turned to dust. She didn’t have that kind of power. She was more the type to yearn so much for something to no end that it just became a part of her personality. Which was exactly why she should have been keeping her distance.
Guilt inched its way up her esophagus. Walker and Ms. May were nice people, good people, people who had befriended her. She shouldn’t be feeling so wary about being with them when they’d been nothing but kind. She feared for her emotional well-being though. Or, at least, she feared that she might explode from the amount of lust filling her body.
“Well, I already know what I’m gettin’.” Ms. May placed her menu on the table and crossed her hands on top of it. “Minnie makes the best meat loaf I’ve ever had, Aja. You should give it a try.”
Aja tried not to let the disgust show on her face. Meat loaf was one of the only dishes her mother had never quite perfected but still refused to stop making. Her childhood had been filled with nights trying to choke down enough to satisfy her mother and be excused from the table. She didn’t care if Minnie had gotten her meat loaf recipe from some kind of Lowcountry-dwelling food deity, she wasn’t going to be eating it.
A miniscule look of revulsion must have slipped through because Walker chuckled. She felt his breath against the curve of her ear and another rubber band holding her sanity together snapped.
“Gram, I think you’re the only person in Greenbelt who has ever ordered the meat loaf,” he said, laughing. “I’m pretty sure they keep it on the menu for you alone.”
“Not true!” Ms. May pointed a finger at him. “I know plenty of people who eat Minnie’s meat loaf.”
“Do any of them happen to be younger than sixty?” Walker asked, eyebrows raised.
“Don’t be ageist, Wally,” his grandmother snapped playfully. “Good food does not have an age limit.”
“Mmhm, if you say so.” He raised his menu in front of his face long enough to shoot a wink at Aja. “I think I’m goin’ to stick with a good old-fashioned smothered pork chop.”
Aja flashed Ms. May an apologetic smile. “And I’m really craving a club sandwich, so…”
Ms. May released a long, deep sigh.
“Maybe next time,” Aja lied, knowing full well that she’d rather spend the rest of her life avoiding Minnie’s Diner altogether than eat that meat loaf.
Their waitress appeared a few moments later, the bright smile on her face dimming some as she took in the people sitting around the table.
