“That is very true,” I agree, pointing my finger at him.
He smiles, and I grin, relieved we’re going back to normalcy. At least, I pretend that everything is normal. The truth is that River has got me all worked up in a confused knot that I have no clue how to untie.
And I’m not even sure that I want to.
Once we leave the city, it takes us about ten minutes to arrive at the park. I’ll admit, as the city lights dimmed, I grow a bit anxious that Drew could be lurking out in the shadows. I don’t know why he would be. It’s not like there’s any way he could know I’m in this car unless he was hiding in the bushes when we took off. But why would he wait until now?
Stop being so paranoid, Maddy.
River parks the car fairly close to the taco truck. Tables and chairs surround the area, and twinkling lights are dangling from the tree branches above. People are walking around on paths and also sitting at the tables, eating and chatting. No one’s face looks familiar—thank God—so the ball of tension in my chest slightly unwinds.
River silences the engine, pockets his key fob, and then shoves the door open. I reach for the door handle, but he quickly says, “Let me get the door for you, okay?”
I get this funny little smile on my face as I nod.
He releases a nervous breath before hopping out and shutting his door. Then he rounds the car and opens my door.
I’m trying not to grin, but this whole gentleman thing is amusing to me.
“Thanks,” I tell him as he closes the door.
He chuckles. “You say that with so much humor.”
I offer him an apologetic look. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m still struggling with this gentleman thing. Like I said, I’m not used to it.”
We start toward the taco truck, a light breeze and chatter filtering through the air.
“You should probably get used to it. Well, I mean, if we continue to hang out.” He fumbles over his words.
“Do you want to continue to hang out with me?”
“I do. You’re the realest person I’ve ever met.”
“Same for me about you. Although, I’m super curious what you need to talk to me about tonight.”
His gaze sweeps the area, and anxiety hums off of him. “At the lake. I don’t want to talk about it here.”
“Are you sure it’s not bad?” I ask guardedly while zipping up my jacket.
“It’s … weird,” he replies as we near the truck. “I actually don’t know how to label it.”
I wait for him to give me an idea of what it is, but he remains silent for a beat.
“Maddy,” he finally says in all seriousness, and I think, Oh,he decided to tell me. “I want you to do me a favor. And I know you’re not going to want to do it, but I really want you to do it.”
“You’re rambling,” I point out with my hands shoved in the pockets of my jacket.
“I know. I’m sorry.” The strands of his inky black hair dance in the breeze as he comes to a stop just short of where the tables are. He sucks in a deep breath and stares at the asphalt as he shifts his weight. “Will you please let me pay for dinner?”
That was so not what I was expecting him to say.
“No,” I start to protest.
He glances at me while stepping toward me. “I know you don’t want to take handouts, but this isn’t a handout. I’m takingyou out, and it’s like the whole thing with me opening your door. It’s something I want to do because it’s how I was raised.”
“Paying for my food is more of a date thing,” I stress. “When friends go out, they pay for themselves.” Speaking of which, I need to see if I was right about him paying my bail. I’ll ask later, once he’s told me other things. Maybe once he opens up, I can get all the truths he’s been keeping from me out of him.
He swallows audibly. “Then this can be a date … I mean, if you’re okay with that.”
