Her phone buzzes almost immediately. I lean in to kiss her cheek, brushing past her ear.
“Let’s see what happens now,” I say quietly, my voice low, the tension still thrumming between us.
The comments start rolling in.
[@WhiskeyAndWings]:I’ve heard of hot tacos, but this is a whole new level of spice. Get it, Hex?
[@ShotgunSips]:I think the tacos just got jealous.
[@HighballHopper]:That kiss cost extra like the guac? I’m here for it.
[@TequilaTaps]:Tacos, tequila, and a neck kiss? You two are making me question my lunch plans.
[@MargaritaMaven]:Who knew taco trucks could serve like this? Damn.
[@BarstoolBabe]:I’ll take two tacos and a side of that.
[@RumRunner87]:I swear, if I hit up this truck and tacos don’t come with a kiss like that, I’m demanding a refund.
[@VodkaVixen]:I’m reconsidering my whole diet.
Sable’s smile widens with each new comment, her fingers scrolling through them all.
Then it hits her.
“This is the first post she hasn’t instantly commented on in over six months,” she says, a little amazed, as though that silence is its own kind of win.
I raise an eyebrow. “Glad to be part of the experience.”
But as the last comment drops, my phone buzzes.
I glance down.
“Will,” I mutter, reading the message. “Uh, sorry. One of the taps went down at the bar. I’ve gotta take this call real quick. You good on your own for about fifteen—twenty minutes?”
Sable nods, already turning her attention back to the next booth she’s eyeing. “Of course. I’m fine. Go ahead and handle it. I’ll just be in this general area.”
“Cool. I’ll be back before you know it.”
I pull out my phone as I step toward a quieter corner, tapping the screen to fake a conversation with Will. I look back only to make sure she doesn’t notice me ducking away and making a very quick exit out of the market.
Going to the market was the perfect play. Not because I knew Sable would love the artistry, but it put me exactly where I needed to be. A quick walk from the luxury condos. No wheels, no mess. Just a clean break when the time came.
In and out.
The social posts also played double duty, taking care of Sable’s problem while accounting for my whereabouts.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
[JT]:Down. 20 minutes, 25 max.
I type back.
[Hex]:Won’t even need it. Got a set of legs I’d rather be spending time between.
[JT]:She could have been mine.
[Hex]:In what world, kid? She’s got steaks in the freezer older than you. You still need permission to rent a car.
