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“Your friends here?”
“Yeah, Malia is my roommate too.”
I nod as Monty tucks her toiletry stuff into her suitcase and zips the whole thing shut.
“Is that all of it?” I ask her as I move to take the bag from her.
“Yeah, I won’t be living with you long,” she says with an angelic smirk.
I carry her suitcase back downstairs and load it into my truck as she grabs her backpack and follows me.
“Are you hungry?” I ask her as we climb into our seats.
“Yeah.”
“Pizza, burgers, or tacos?” I ask her.
“Tacos.”
“My kind of girl,” I say, winking at her as I pull out of the parking spot.
She rolls her eyes at me but I can see her smiling as we head down the road.
We pull into Tortilla Street and I park near the door. I’m about to go to open her door but she beats me to it, so I rush to get the restaurant door for her.
“Thanks,” she says, giving me a weirdly suspicious look as she heads inside.
We head up to the counter and I scan the menu, deciding on the three beef tacos before I go back to studying Monty. She’s still looking over the menu, idly braiding her hair over one shoulder as she looks it over.
“What looks good?” she asks.
“You.”
“What?”
“Uh, the tacos,” I say, my face flushing as I look away from her.
“Yeah,” she says, and I continue to stare at the menu until she looks away from me.
We’re next in line and we both step up to order. She gets the three tacos too, and I smile at how compatible we are. I insist on paying, and she sighs as she shoves her money back into her pocket.
“Thanks for dinner,” she says as we take our trays over to a booth.
“It’s my pleasure.”
She grabs one of the tacos and takes a big bite as I unwrap one of mine.
“Are tacos your favorite food?” I ask her.
“No, I love Italian food.”
“We could have gone somewhere else,” I tell her.
“Tacos sounded good,” she says with a shrug.
“What’s your favorite dish then?”
“Pasta. It doesn’t matter what kind. I just want pasta and garlic bread,” she says with a wide smile.
