“What are the odds?” I ask.
Cody turns, cups my face and kisses me. The kiss takes me by surprise—intensity fueled by adrenaline and the ticking of the clock. I lean into Cody, giving him a kiss that’s meant to tide us over.
When he pulls back, he’s smiling. “That was close—and fun.”
He peeks his head out again, and when he doesn’t see Dustin, he tugs me back onto the sidewalk with him and turns back the way we came, ducking around a corner to take a side street back to the parking garage.
On the way back, Cody suggests we grab hot chicken for the drive home. We stop at Prince’s and get paper bags full of chicken and fries to go.
It’s messy. The cab of Cody’s truck is littered with paper napkins. I stick my finger into my mouth and suck the sauce off. Cody smiles over at me. We crack the windows a sliver despite the cool night.
“Why can’t you get me food that maintains my dignity?” I mock scold him.
“I’d rather watch you make a mess,” he says with an easy smile.
“I had a really good day,” I tell him.
“Me too.” He studies me for a beat. “Have you ever been on a day-long date before?”
“Oh,” I smile over at him. “Are we doing that thing where we talk about all our past relationships?”
“Definitely not,” he says. “The idea of you with another guy makes me want to hit the weight room—the punching bag specifically.”
I can’t help but smile. “I haven’t dated that many guys,” I admit.
“Why not? The farm?”
“That, for sure.”
“And?”
“You?” It’s the most risky admission.
“Me, huh? You didn’t date because of me?”
“It’s crazy. I know.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah.”
His face breaks into a broad grin. “I like that. A lot. You were waiting for me.”
“Not exactly, since I couldn’t imagine a world where we’d ever be together. I just didn’t have much interest in any other men. I dated here and there. It was too much effort for the most part—dating any guy when I wasn’t really interested in them.”
He’s quiet, regarding me, still smiling.
“You dated in high school,” I say. “And there was that other woman—the one who left and moved to Georgia?”
I could probably catalog every time Cody has even glanced at another female. Not that I was objectively jealous. I just—noticed.
“Sharlene?” he asks.
“Yeah. Sharlene.”
He nods.
“Did you take her to Nashville?”
