Page 92 of The Life and (Medieval) Times of Kit Sweetly

“I panicked. I’m sorry. But I’ll make up for it.” He kisses me again, this time slow, sweet, and lingering. It sends hummingbirds zipping around my belly.

“GET IT, KIT!” shouts Layla. I glare at her, but then burst out laughing.

Jett doesn’t look at all embarrassed. “I bet you’re starving. Let’s get pancakes. Want to meet me at your mom’s restaurant in half an hour?”

“You have yourself a date,” I say. “Just let me change first.”

45

IT TAKES ME LONGER THAN EXPECTED TO SHOWER, CHANGE, and say goodbye to everyone at the Castle.

“I’ll give you a thirty-minute head start,” says Layla. “But no guarantees we won’t show up. I’m famished after all that riding. Being a Knight is a real workout!”

Maura whispers something in her ear and Layla laughs wickedly. She waves to me as they walk away.

“SORRY I’M LATE,” I say as I SLIDE INTO THE BOOTH ACROSS from Jett.

I want to sit next to him, like the adorable white-haired couple behind us, who lean over to share a magnifying glass as they do a crossword puzzle. But I don’t. Some distance feels necessary as we figure out whatever this is between us.

“I ordered already,” says Jett.

Right as he says it, Dot, a red-haired server who’s worked with my mom since I was in junior high, puts down plates piled high with pancakes, bacon, sunny-side-up eggs, and two cups of coffee. She’s an unabashed feminist who wears a “We Can Do It!” button on her uniform and has sleeves of tattoos full of political slogans from the ’60s.

“I see that,” I say to Jett, pouring sugar into my coffee. My stomach grumbles.

When all the food is on the table, Dot tucks her tray under her arm. “You all need anything else, Kit?”

“Just some sugar.” I hand her our empty sugar container. She snags the one from a table next to us and hands it to me.

“Thanks, Dot,” I say, pouring more sugar into my coffee.

“No problem, sweetie.” She stands there a moment longer, and then she clears her throat. “And congratulations on your big night. Your mom told me all about your campaign, and she just sent me a video from tonight. I’ve always loved horses and my granddaughters have been begging to go to the Castle for years. I’ve never had the money to take them just to see a bunch of men fight, but after your performance, I think we can go see the famous Girl Knight and company.”

I smile at her. “I’ll leave some tickets for you at the front desk next weekend. Try to sit in my cheering section. I’m riding as the Red Knight at least through the end of summer.”

Dot squeezes my shoulder affectionately and then turns to Jett. “You’ve got a real special girl here, you know. Better be good to her.”

Jett smiles. “I will.”

I blush to the roots of my hair. “Get out of here, you. I’ve got breakfast to eat and a boyfriend to talk to.”

Dot gives me a knowing look as she walks away.

“I see your strategy is to butter me up with breakfast food before we move on to matters of the heart,” I say, slathering jelly and butter onto toast.

Jett rolls his eyes. “Bad jokes are not the way to my heart.”

I hold out the ramekin of butter. “Really? No? Too much?”

“Too much. Now, won’t you come over here and sit with me, so we can give that old couple a run for their money?”

I pour half the jug of syrup onto my pancakes. “Somebody’s feeling confident this evening.”

“Somebody just got called your boyfriend,” he says with an easy grin. “I want to make this the most unsurpassably cheesy romantic breakfast of your life.”

I laugh. “Fine, fine. But you’re not having any of my pancakes.”

Jett scoots over as I slide into the booth next to him.