Page 24 of Love Out Loud

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he practically whispers. His warm breath tickles my cheek. I have to fight to keep my eyelids from fluttering closed.

He straightens up after a moment and twists the doorknob. “Shall we?” he asks in an overly polite tone.

I guess two can play this game, because now I can’t seem to control the butterflies in my stomach. I clear my throat and shake my head quickly. “Um, yeah,” I say as I try to get my knees to stop wobbling so I can follow him out the door.

This trip is already shaping up to be more of an adventure than I thought it’d be.

***

Lennon pulls up to a small whitewashed building with a green sign that simply says Tacos in bold letters. There are mismatched tables and chairs on a giant patio with a view of the ocean far in the distance. Some of the tables are occupied, but not as many as I’d expect on a gorgeous day right in the middle of what would be considered the lunch rush back home.

“Believe it or not, this is the best place for tacos in the city,” Lennon says.

I twist in my seat to face him. He’s squinting out the dashboard at the restaurant as if he’s suddenly second-guessing his choice of lunch venue.

“I love tacos,” I reassure him.

His eyes shift to mine and bounce back and forth between them for a moment. “You and Devin took me out for tacos the last time I was in Michigan. You ordered fish ones. They were so bad, but you didn’t want to be rude and take them back, so I did it for you.”

I smile softly. I had forgotten that until just now, but the memory comes rushing back to me. “The second batch was still really bad.” What I don’t mention is the sauce dripping down my chin that Lennon wiped away with his finger. He tasted it and immediately spit it out. Devin giggled like a maniac, so he hammed it up, taking drinks of water and spitting them back out. I was so grateful for the humor to take my mind off the way his calloused finger felt on the skin of my chin.

But from Lennon’s smirk, it’s obvious he remembers it as clearly as I do now. “I figured I’d show you what real fish tacos are supposed to taste like.”

“From here?” I’m sure the tacos are great, but it doesn’t look very well-kept.

“I told you—it’s the best in the city. And besides, Noah wanted to wine and dine you at some five-star place, but I figured this was more your speed.”

I hum. “I don’t know whether to be offended that you don’t think I’d enjoy a fancy lunch or admit that you’re probably right.”

Lennon chuckles, the sound so much richer and warmer in person than it is over the phone. It relaxes something in me I didn’t even realize was tense.

“Everyone enjoys fancy lunches sometimes,” he says, looking out at the restaurant again. “But Noah is… Well, he can be intense. And these sorts of meetings aren’t typical for him, so I’m not really sure what he’s got up his sleeve. I figured keeping it casual was the best way to keep him casual.” He shrugs and shoots me an apologetic glance. “Not sure if it’ll work.”

Suddenly nervous, I run a hand through my hair, trying to re-tame the curls after the open-air ride here. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” There’s a dark edge to his voice that makes me turn to look at him. “Jessica will also be there, and she’s kind of a wild card.”

I flip the visor down and open the mirror to check myself. “A diva?” I run my tongue over my teeth to catch any errant lipstick stains, even though I don’t see any.

Lennon hums in agreement. “And young.”

I eye him sidelong. “And successful. A dangerous combination.”

He nods silently, then reaches out to grab my hand. His warm palm presses into mine as his fingers squeeze the back of my hand reassuringly. “You look great. They just want to meet you. No big deal.”

My eyes narrow. “You’re kind of making it seem like a big deal.”

“Probably a bigger deal for me than for you.” His voice is quiet enough that I need to lean in to hear him. Which might be a mistake as that scent that is so distinctly him washes over me—one that smells ethereal. Like big open skies and white, puffy clouds. Between that and his hand still holding mine, the inside of the Jeep feels too small, and my skin feels too tight.

“How so?” I ask, my voice sounding much steadier than I feel.

He flashes his best smile. If I were standing, my knees would go weak at seeing it. “I want my new friends to like my old friend.”

There it is. My way out of this trap of insanity and want I’ve been wound into. I keep getting assaulted by how everything about Lennon is perfect and magical and feels like home, even two thousand miles away from it.

I make an overexaggerated frown and rip my hand away from his to bring it to my chest. “Who are you calling old?”

He laughs again, but this time I’m prepared for it. I meet it with one of my own.

“Let’s get some tacos, Songbird,” he says before hopping out of his Jeep.