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“Then we definitely need to get something in your belly. It’ll probably make you feel better.”
Not giving her a chance to argue, I lock my fingers around her wrist and pull her toward the parking lot. She must be in some weird state of shock, because she doesn’t fight me tooth and nail like I expect. Even though there are a ton of questions buzzing around inside my head, I keep them to myself.
At least for the time being.
As soon as we reach the Escalade, I click the locks and open the passenger side door. Her gaze briefly meets mine before she slides inside the vehicle. Then I jog around the hood and settle beside her. When she continues to stare straight ahead, I reach over and grab the seatbelt before dragging it across her body and clicking it into place.
Her head swivels until our gazes collide. A mixture of surprise and confusion simmers in her dark eyes. As the moment stretches, I’m reminded of the brief kiss we shared in the library. And just how much I want to do it again. But now isn’t the time. Reluctantly, I twist around and stare into the darkness beyond the windshield before pushing the button until the engine roars to life.
It takes effort to concentrate on the road instead of the girl sitting beside me. “Can I assume you don’t want Mexican?”
With a snort, her lips tremble around the edges as she gives her head a slight shake.
“Figured as much. How do you feel about Italian?”
“I like it.”
“Good,” I say with a nod. “Me, too.”
Ten minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of a popular chain restaurant close to campus. Sure, I could take her someplace more intimate and romantic, but that’s not the vibe this evening. This place is casual with surprisingly delicious food. And that’s what she needs.
As soon as she exits the truck, I snake my arm around her waist and steer her toward the entrance. A blast of heat hits us as we step inside the building. The girl loitering behind the hostess stand straightens as soon as she catches sight of us.
A big smile lights up her face. “Good evening. Do you have a reservation with us?”
“Nope,” I say. “Is it possible to get a table for two?”
She glances at her iPad and drags a finger across the screen before peeking up at me from beneath a dark fringe of lashes. “I think we can squeeze you in,” her voice dips as she leans forward, “Asher Stevens.”
I give Lola a bit of side-eye before tightening my grip. Part of me is afraid she’ll bolt if given half a chance. “Great.”
When a starry-eyed look enters the girl’s eyes, I clear my throat. “Is there something available now?” I don’t mention that the restaurant is barely filled and it’s after eight o’clock.
She jumps to attention as her eyes widen. “Of course! Let me check on that for you.” With another bright smile aimed in my direction, she disappears into the main dining room.
“Wow,” Lola whispers, “it must be difficult for you to go anywhere without adoring fans falling at your feet.”
The sarcasm filling her voice is loud and clear.
“You have no idea,” I say lightly.
“Oh, I think I do.”
Before I can fire back with a response, the hostess returns and grabs two menus. “If you’ll both follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”
“Awesome.” I place my hand on Lola’s lower back, propelling her forward.
A few people stare as we walk through the dining room. It’s a relief when no one stops me, wanting to talk football.
Once we’re seated at a booth in the back, the hostess lingers. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
I shake my head, annoyed that she’s hanging around when all I want to do is figure out what happened with Lola’s father. She’s normally so spunky, just waiting for the opportunity to sharpen her claws on me. I don’t like seeing her subdued or upset.
“We’re good, thanks.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“We are.” My smile becomes forced. I’m uncertain how much longer I can hold it in place.
“Your server will be by momentarily.”
“Great.” I keep my gaze pinned to Lola, hoping the younger woman gets the subtle hint to leave.
“Have a wonderful meal!”
“We will. Thanks.”
Even then, it takes another handful of seconds for her to reluctantly disappear. As soon as she does, I huff out a breath and shake my head.
A slight smile quirks the corners of her lips. “Poor Asher. So beloved.”
I roll my eyes and grumble under my breath.
“I’m beginning to understand how you were able to coast through school without actually doing any work. Girls just jump to do your bidding, don’t they?”
I give her a hard look. “Not all of them.”
She arches a brow, holding my gaze for a heartbeat or two before dropping it to the white tablecloth. “That’s probably for the best.”
