“Bold choice.”
“The only correct choice.”
She laughs, but doesn’t move away, not even an inch.
Our waitress—Linda, who I’ve known since I was thirteen—approaches with her notepad. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she teases me with a grin. “And do my eyes deceive me? Did Oliver Jacobson finally bring a date? A beautiful one at that.” She winks, then she looks at Jenna. “Honey, blink twice if you’re being held against your will.”
Jenna snorts. “Don’t be silly, Linda. You really think I’d let this guy kidnap me?”
“Have you seen the man sitting next to you?” She rests her hand on her hip as she gives me an appraising once-over. “This boy grew up into onegorgeousman! If I were twenty years younger, I’d give you a run for your money, girl.”
That earns a giggle from my date.
I playfully rest my hand over my left pec. “You’re too much woman for me. You’d break my heart.”
Linda rolls her eyes and shakes her head with a suppressed smile. “Flirt with someone your own age, Oli, and stop hitting on old ladies.” She winks at Jenna and flips open her notepad. “Besides, you two are cute together. I wouldn’t want to come between that.”
Jenna glances at me before focusing back on our server with a grin. “Thanks, Linda. I could never compete with you.”
Linda waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, hush, girl, and gimme your order.”
Jenna starts to respond, but I gently squeeze her knee and cut her off. “She’ll have the chicken finger basket with onion rings and a cookies-and-cream shake. I’ll take the colossal burger with chili-cheese fries and a Coke.”
“You kids never change.” Linda smiles to herself, jotting down our order before sauntering toward the kitchen.
I make myself comfortable, relaxing my posture and resting my arm behind Jenna’s head along the back of the booth. She shifts in her seat, but resists the natural urge to nestle into my side. Nothing would please me more than having her lush body resting against mine. But it’s probably for the best, as my dick is already straining against my zipper from being this close to her.
The apple scent of her shampoo lingers in the air. “You’re blushing, baby girl.”
“Am not.” Jenna smiles knowingly, then looks up at me through her thick lashes. “In case I never said it outright, thank you for last night.” Her tone is reserved and sincere.
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“I do,” she insists. “You took care of me when you didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did. I wasn’t about to leave you crying in a bar.”
She winces and her lips press together. “Oh God. I was crying, wasn’t I?”
“Maybe a little.”
“That’s not embarrassing or anything,” she mumbles, looking down at her fidgeting hands in her lap.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, honey. We’ve all had our hearts broken before.”
She studies me for a moment before asking, “Have you?”
“Not in the way you have, but something like that. I did it to myself, though. Something I won’t do again.”
She makes a noncommittal noise while nodding her head. She has no idea I’m talking about her, but I’m not sure she’s ready to hear that anyway.
“You’re different. Not exactly like I remember.” She studies my face and I’m desperate to touch her. But I know that as soon as I get my hands on her, I won’t be able to stop.
“And how do you remember me?” I chuckle. “As some art geek who sat behind you in class?”
“No, of course not.”
I shoot her a deadpan look.
