“Are you staring at my ass?” I keep my hand over the sticky spot because I don’t want to make him feel bad.
“I’m inspecting your shorts. I’ll get that seat cleaned tomorrow.” He closes my door, and we head into the restaurant. “And you have a nice ass,” he says. “In case there’s a poll about it or something like that. Ten out of ten.”
I playfully nudge him, any excuse to touch him because I’mdyingfor him to kiss me. Grab my hand.My ass. Whatever. Just touch me!
He keeps his gaze ahead of us, but he still grins and nudges me back.
While he orders at the counter, I pick out a table. This is my first fast-food date. I’m about to eat food I don’t like while trying not to think about the mystery sticky substance on my shorts. Yet my head continues to spin from him literally sweeping me off my feet, the near kiss, and the way he instinctively put himself between me and the car driving down the street.
If he were my muse, I’d write love songs about all the things I never knew I wanted—until him. Songs about falling. Butterflies. Goosebumps. And of course, being swept off my feet.
It’s too soon. Too fast. Too everything.
It’s also undeniable, and if I’m being honest, it feels uncontrollable.
Flynn carries the tray of food to the drink station, fills our cups, and grabs napkins and packets of ketchup. When he spots me, he grins. I’ve seen a lot in my life, things other people would only dream of, but this man smiling at me might be the vision that hits me hardest in the chest. He’s just … I don’t even know the right words. Definitely unexpected in the best possible way.
“I didn’t know if you wanted coop sauce or just ketchup, so I got both. You deserve options,” he says, sitting across from me.
“I don’t know what coop sauce is, but I’ll try it.”
“I know this isn’t fancy?—”
“It’s perfect,” I say, interrupting him. “Like reallyreallyperfect.”
He eyes me while taking a drink of his soda, grinning around the straw.
“I’m serious.” I laugh, opening a packet of ketchup.
“I’m not a fancy person.” Flynn opens his ketchup with his teeth.
“I hadn’t noticed.” I dip my chicken into the special sauce.
“It’s weird seeing the stupid shit that matters to rich people.”
“Define stupid shit,” I say.
“A big house. The Rawlings’ mansion is ridiculously big for two people. They don’t even sleep in the same bedroom, and it’s still too big. They have one child and a dining room table that seats twelve.”
“Maybe they like getting good sleep. Maybe they like having dinner parties.” I shrug before taking another bite of chicken. It’s better than I expected. Just one moreunexpectedmoment with Flynn Morley.
He dips at least five fries at the same time into his pile of ketchup. “If I had a wife, I wouldn’t sleep on the other side of the house. Ya never know what could happen. If she couldn’t sleep with me in bed with her, I’d just sleep on the floor.”
I slow my chewing.
“What?” he says.
“You’d sleep on the floor?”
“Of course. The man of the house should protect what’s important. What’s more important than family?” He shrugs a shoulder, but then he chuckles. “But what do I know? I’ve never had a family. Maybe that’s why I think I’d do whatever it took to protect one if I had the chance.”
I now believe Flynn has never dated, because if he had, he’d be married. Some woman would have snatched him up. I don’t know if I’m ready to snatch anyone up, but I’m definitely putting Flynn on my wish list. Clicking the heart icon. And I know I’ll think about him long after our date ends.
“But seriously,” he says. “Can you imagine that life? A big house. Never thinking twice about what something costs? Steak for dinner? Fresh produce. Eating a whole avocado with your breakfast?”
I chuckle. “I think thatisthe life to imagine. I fear the life you had growing up is what’s unimaginable.”
“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”
