“Anywhere.” The corners of his mouth curved upward.
“Fine. Starlight Café.”
“Seriously?”
“You said pick anywhere. I happen to love that place.”
“It’s a grease pit.”
“It literally isn’t. You’re just used to the fancy restaurants that serve one-bite foods that cost over $200.”
“Okay. Starlight Café it is. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“It’s a date.” I grinned.
He tucked his hand inside his pant pocket as he began to walk out of the room.
“Wes?”
He stopped and turned around.
“Thank you for saving Avila’s.”
“I did it for my own selfish reasons.” He winked.
Chapter Sixteen
Weston
Her method of teaching was something I’d never seen before. Shit. Where were teachers like her when I was growing up? The students seemed to love her. And from what I could tell, she made something as boring as English literature fun for them. They called her Sam instead of Miss Hollis. For some reason, that bothered me. We’d discuss it at dinner. I couldn’t believe I agreed to the Starlight Café. I’d passed by the greasy diner my whole life and had never stepped one foot in it. My grandparents would have killed me if I’d had. The Castiles didn’t dine in greasy diners. But tonight, I would for the first time because of a beautiful woman named Samantha Hollis.
She’d been on my mind since our date on Saturday. I’d thought of her more than I cared to admit. When I closed my eyes at night, all I saw was her face and beautiful smile. She haunted my dreams, and it bothered me.
After showering, I put on a pair of khakis and a long-sleeve shirt. There was no way I was dressing up for theStarlight Café. I didn’t want to ruin my good clothes with the grease I was sure I'd drip on myself.
Ben pulled up to Samantha’s building precisely at six forty-five. I was fifteen minutes early and didn’t care. Climbing out, I took the elevator up to her apartment and knocked on the door. I was shocked when it opened, and a teenage girl was standing there staring at me.
“Hello.” I smiled. “You must be Zoey.”
“And you must be Mr. Castile. Come in.” She gestured.
“Thank you.” I tucked my hands into my pants pockets.
“My mom will be out in a minute.” She walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. “So, do you have bad intentions?”
“Excuse me?” I spoke.
“My mom.” She twisted the cap on the water bottle. “I’m just asking.”
“That’s not a normal question,” I said.
“It is for me.” She tipped the bottle to her lips.
“Does your mother know you’re interrogating me?”
“No. Should she know?” Her brow raised, and I smiled, for she looked exactly like Samantha.
“No,” I replied.
