This was me. Just a simple guy on a date with the pretty girl he enjoyed spending time with.
Not the quarterback on SportsCenter or the guy on billboards.
“Our first date is grabbing something to eat from a food truck, huh?”
I pulled the brim of my ball cap down. “Is a lobster roll not up to your standards, princess?” I teased as we approached the back of the line that snaked around the entire parking lot.
Her lips twitched, fighting back a smile. “Are you kidding me? I love seafood.”
I pushed my sunglasses to the edge of my nose, which probably made me look even more ridiculous.
“I can tell.” I huffed out a laugh. “I can hear your stomach growling from over here.”
“Well, at least I don’t look like I’m ready to rob a gas station.” She laughed at the disguise I was wearing. “You do realize it’s dark, right? Wearing sunglasses at night isn’t very subtle.”
“I’m doing my best here.”
The truth was, I didn’t expect this place to be so packed. It was late, way past the dinner rush. But seeing that this was the last Friday before they closed down for the season, I guess everyone in Harbor Bay had the same idea tonight.
“The taco truck doesn’t have as many people.”
I glanced around at the rows of food trucks. Most of them had lines, but not as long as this one.
“I didn’t bring you here for a taco. I brought you because these hot buttered lobster rolls are my favorite, and this is the last weekend where I can get one before spring.”
“It better be worth it. This is a long line.”
“They are. I can’t believe it’s still this busy. I thought it would be quieter by now.”
We were standing shoulder to shoulder in line. Becca was close enough that I was tempted to reach for her hand. If I didn’t think she would freak out, I would have.
“You’re really not disappointed, are you? That I didn’t do something a little fancier.”
She scoffed. “Do I look like I need fancy to you?”
She pulled on her brown sweater that fit her just right. She looked cute tonight in a simple pair of jeans and high-heeled boots.
“You know what I mean.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, you got me. I was hoping that you would pick me up in a stretch limo and whisk me off to Europe for the weekend in your private jet.”
My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh, don’t worry, I still plan on whisking you off somewhere later.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Like the ice cream truck for dessert.”
That earned me a soft smile. “I actually don’t mind this at all. I like this version of you.”
“And what version would that be?” I asked as we shuffled a few steps forward while the line moved.
“You’re relaxed and not so uptight.”
“Careful, Press Girl. You keep saying things like that, and I’m going to start thinking you really like me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Press Girl?”
I rubbed my chin. “That’s your new nickname.”
“I didn’t realize we were at the nickname phase yet.” She shook her head. “What should I call you?”
I shrugged. “Champ works.”
