Page 138 of River Wild

My past doesn’t even come into the equation tonight.

When the waiter leaves our table with our drink order, I open my menu but don’t look at it yet.

“Can I say something?”

“Will I like what you have to say?”

I lift a shoulder. “Not sure. But I’m going to say it anyway.”

He gestures with his hand for me to speak.

“I do love this restaurant; it’s amazing. But you do know you didn’t have to drive all the way out of town to bring me here. We could have gone to a restaurant in Canyon Lake.”

A frown appears on his brow. But he doesn’t say anything.

“I know why you didn’t. Because you avoid the people in town. But, honestly, I think maybe you … shouldn’t go out of your way to avoid them. I think … well, maybe things have changed now, you know, with us being friends—”

“We’re just friends?” He raises a dark brow at me.

I feel my cheeks heat. “You know what I mean,” I say quietly.

“I don’t think I do, Red. Because I’m very sure that I want to be more than friends with you. I thought you did, too.”

“You know I do. I wouldn’t be here tonight if I didn’t. But I also know that you’re changing the subject.”

He gives me a slow, knowing smile.

I nudge his leg with my foot under the table. “Ass.” I grin.

“That is also true.” He chuckles.

“So, as I was saying, I think, since people have seen us together and seen you with Hope … I just think maybe things have changed—you know, changed … how they see you.”

“People like that don’t change the way they think. And they’re not people that I want to be around.”

“And I agree. They’re narrow-minded sheep, and I’m not saying you should be friends with them. But I just want you to stop hiding in your hometown.”

He exhales a slow breath.

“Just think about it.”

He stares at me for a moment. “Okay.”

“Can I ask something else?”

“No,” he says, but I know he’s teasing. I can tell by the look in his eyes.

“Why have you never left Canyon Lake if you dislike the place so much?”

He leans back in his chair. “I don’t dislike the place. Only the people—barring two now. And where would I have gone if I had left?”

“Where people are nicer,” I suggest with a shrug.

His lips tip up. “Is there such a place?”

“Probably not,” I admit.

“As strange as this might sound,” he says, “sometimes, the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.”