Of course things are different now. It’s been three years, and a lot has happened to both of us. Even if he liked me at one point, there’s no way he’d still like me now. But I can’t help but wonder what would've happened if he’d told me sooner. Would it have changed how things are now? Or would I have still pushed him away?
“Yeah.” That’s all I can manage.
He breathes in, tapping the steering wheel. “Let’s do something. We can’t spend the whole day sitting here.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “You’re the one who always knew what to do.”
“Well, I’m not like that anymore,” I say. Less than a second later, my stomach growls embarrassingly loud. I cover it with my arms, but that only draws more attention.
“See, I knew you were hungry.” He picks up the ice cream bar and dangles it in front of my face. “Eat this.”
I take it from him and undo the wrapper.
He starts the car.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To feed you,” he says.
There’s a funny feeling that runs down my spine because he’s taking care of me without me asking. But he doesn’t act like it’s a burden, and maybe that’s why I don’t stop him.
I take a bite of my ice cream, letting the sweet chocolate melt on my tongue, and I stare out the window as a little smile forms on my lips. Maybe today won’t be that bad.
Myles sits across from me with a menu in front of his face. We found a little diner and by the number of cars parked outside of it, we figured it must be good. The parking lot was so packed we had to park on the street.
“What are you going to get?” he asks me.
I have my menu laid out on the table as I scan the options. There’s everything from omelets and crepes to biscuits and gravy. To be honest, it all looks good, but I don’t have my wallet with me. I didn’t think that far ahead when I snuck out of the house last night.
“I’m really not that hungry anymore,” I say, folding the menu back up. “That ice cream filled me up.”
His brow dips when he looks at me, but he doesn’t argue. He goes back to looking at the menu like nothing happened.
A few minutes later the server comes up to our table.She’s a young lady with auburn hair pinned back. In her hand is an order pad and pencil. “Have you guys decided what you’d like to have?”
I tap the water glass. “I’m just having water.”
“Anything for breakfast?”
“I’m okay for now. I’m not really hungry.”
She nods, turning to Myles. “And you?”
Myles points to a picture on the menu. “I’ll have the pancake breakfast.”
She scribbles his order down. “Will that be all?”
“I think I’d like to get a side of hash browns and a side of sunny-side-up eggs,” he says.
I find his order odd, but maybe his tastes have changed. He used to avoid eggs like the plague.
My stomach growls again at the thought of perfect golden hash browns and the silky texture of the eggs, but I already dragged him out here. I’m not about to make him pay for me.
“The pancake breakfast already comes with hash browns. Did you still want another side of them?”
“You can never have too many hash browns.” He folds the menu and hands it back. “And I’ll take a black coffee too, please.”
