They walked up the street, out of sight of the bakery.
“How did you find me?”
“I mean, it wasn’t hard. You told me where you worked. Thought you might need a fix.”
Molly squeezed her eyes shut tight. “I did? I guess I did.”
“Hey, if I’m out of line, say the word.”
She sat on a park bench in the shade of a magnolia tree, patted the spot next to her. She opened the bag, and a delicious waft of steam rose. Fresh. Her stomach grumbled. “You come bearing gifts. I’m hungover. How could I be mad?”
“I get the whole vegetarian scene,” Leo said, gesturing to the bakery. “But the way you talked last night made me think you might be down for something else.”
“Well, I don’t know what I said to deserve this, but please, tell me there’s a spork in here,” she said, rifling around in the bag until she came up with the utensil wrapped in flimsy plastic. “Yes!” Molly held the foam cup in her left hand, sporked beans and rice into her hungry mouth with her right. “Biscuit chaser,” she said, tilting her head back slightly to keep the food in before biting into the biscuit. She put her hand to her mouth, chewed quickly, trying not to talk with it full. “God, this is so good. Thank you!” She swallowed hard, her body bouncing to the rhythm of her chewing, trying to hurry the process along. She wiped her oily fingers on her pant leg. “I can’t believe you’re here ...”
“Leo. Leo Doria.”
“I didn’t forget your name!”
Awkwardness caught up with them, strangers bonding over fast food. They both tried to speak at once, to fill the quiet.
“You go,” Leo said.
Molly laughed, suddenly self-conscious. She’d rushed into work that morning and worried that, at a minimum, her pits stunk. “You must have been first in line at Popeye’s. Where do you even live?”
“Adams Morgan. I share an apartment with Henry. From last night?”
“Of course.”
“So, me, Henry, and another guy. Not a great place, definitely too cramped. But it’s fine. Close enough to work, the Metro. Great food. And you, you live here?”
“Yeah, Takoma Park. Hippie house.”
Leo nodded. “And the bakery? How long have you been there?”
“Why are you here, Leo? Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for the red beans and rice. I mean.” She fluttered her eyes. “We drank a lot last night. Made out a lot. But why are you here?”
Leo’s left leg shook, and he let out an exaggerated breath, like a kid blowing out a candle. “Well, I hope maybe you’re glad to see me and not just the bag of hangover food I brought. Look, maybe you think I’m some kind of weirdo. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you left. And then I realized I didn’t get your number. I should have chased down the taxi. I woke up thinking about you—well, you and my headache. And I wanted to see you and I wanted Popeye’s and ... two and two ... here I am.”
Molly tapped her teeth together. This Leo made her nervous, jittery, like he might be able to kick down that heavy door she’d closed after Charlie. No one ever went out of their way for her, did something for her that didn’t serve themselves first. Was he just another guy who didn’t take no for an answer? But there hadn’t been a question really. He brought food. She sat on a bench and ate it with him. “Sorry,” she said. “I got up in my head for a minute there. No, that’s really nice. I had a good time last night.” She cringed, hearing that needy sound in her voice, that dippy flirting. “And I woke up thinking about you andlasagna, so you are really, really close to perfect right now.”
He reached for her biscuit. She slapped his hand before he could pull it away.
“Killer instincts.”
Her heart skipped. “You have no idea.”
In the daylight, the glow of youth and ease on him was almost unbearable. His skin was absolute butter. Molly was dying to kiss him. She popped the bite he tried to steal into her mouth. “Sadly, I must return to the vegetable mines.”
“What time are you done? That’s me,” he said, pointing to a motorcycle parked at the curb. “I could come back. We could go for a ride or something if you want. I brought another helmet, just in case.”
“Pretty confident, aren’t you?”
He cocked his head, touched her hand. “Nothing wrong with a little hope.”
They locked eyes, both playing the game now. Heat rose in her cheeks, thinking about Leo leaning into her on the hood of the cab. Okay, a little hope, then.
“Clean up this mess, yeah,” she said, pushing the paper bag toward him. “I cannot be seen with poison. My granola universe can’t handle it. And three. I’m done at three.”
