I frown. “But we didn’t make plans.”
“Do we have to have plans in order for me to take you somewhere?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead. I have the insane urge to push it off, run my fingers through it. I bet his hair is silky soft. “Have you ever heard of being spontaneous?”
My frown deepens. No one would ever call me a spontaneous person. Ever. I like plans. Things happening in an orderly fashion. If that makes me sound like an old lady then so be it. I happily embrace my old lady habits. “I’m not one for spontaneity.”
Gabe shakes his head, shoves his hands into the front pockets of his black cargo shorts. He looks good. Of course. He’s wearing a faded red T-shirt that clings to his muscular shoulders and chest almost lovingly. I wonder if he works out. He has to work out. No one looks that good without putting a little effort into it. Or else he’s just blessed.
“Nothing wrong with a little spontaneous action now and then, don’t you think?” The sly look he gives me makes me think he’s remembering last night. And while the falling asleep portion of it I’d rather forget, there is that spectacular kiss we shared. I don’t want to forget that.
I don’t think he wants to forget it either.
“Maybe,” I say with a shrug.
He drinks me in, his gaze landing on my bare feet. “Get some shoes on and let’s go.”
“Um.” I glance down at myself. I’m wearing last night’s white shorts and a dark green tank top. Not exactly dressed for success. “Do I need to change?” I reach up and feel the back of my head. I never took my hair out of that sloppy bun I twisted it into a few hours ago and I bet I look a mess.
“You’re perfect just as you are,” he says, his tone soft, with just the slightest hint of seduction. Oh, boy. “Now go grab your shoes and let’s get out of here.”
I leave him standing at the door as I go in search of my flip flops, my mind racing at the possibilities. Where is he taking me? What does he have planned? Am I ready to do any of those things he has planned? Just looking at him makes me think of sex, which is wrong and weird and totally unlike me. I’ve never met a guy who I want to flat out jump. Ever.
Gabe is the exception to that rule. If he’d pushed his way into the house and demanded that I strip for him, I probably would’ve agreed.
Wild but true.
Slipping on my black flip flops, I grab my purse and shuffle back to the door, where I find Gabe leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his stance, everything about him casual. “Ready?” he asks, straightening away from the doorframe.
“Definitely.” I say with a nod as I walk outside, shutting the door behind me. I turn to it and lock the deadbolt, then smile up at Gabe. “Where to?”
He returns the smile. “Let me show you. This evening will be broken into a few different parts.”
I frown at him. “Such as?”
“It will have to be a surprise.” He offers his arm for me to take. “Ready to go?”
As ready as I’ll ever be.
He takes me to an old fashioned drive in, a burger joint with vintage looking neon signs in bright pinks and blues and tons of cars filling the lot. We somehow find a parking space directly in front but this allows us a glimpse inside and every available table is taken, including the ones outside.
“We can eat in the car,” he suggests, glancing around the pristine black leather interior of his BMW.
Knowing me I’ll probably spill my soda in here. Or a blob of ketchup will drop out of my burger and land on the seat. “Is this your car? And are you sure?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.
“Yeah, it’s mine Don’t worry about it.” He nods, rolling down the window as one of the waitresses approaches his side of the car. She’s cute with bright blonde hair pulled into a high, bouncy ponytail and a ton of well applied makeup on her face. Instead of looking caked on, it enhances her features and I feel sort of less than just looking at her. “Hey,” he tells her and she flashes him a winning smile.
“Hey yourself.” She hands over two menus and he takes them, passing one to me, though his gaze is still glued to Miss Perky. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Extra large vanilla Coke,” he says, turning to look at me. “Whatcha want, Luce?”
No one calls me Luce. I like it. “I’ll just have water,” I answer.
He sends me a look, repeats the water request to the waitress who then takes off with a flirty smile and a wink.
An actual wink. Yikes.
“Water?” Gabe asks as I’m reading over the menu. God, everything on here should just say fattening, really fattening or super fattening. There’s not even a salad option. “You gotta live it up every once in a while, don’t you think?”
“I don’t like drinking my calories,” I say primly, finally lifting my head to find him studying me.
“I fucking love drinking my calories,” he says, a lascivious smile on his face. “Seriously, their vanilla Cokes are awesome. So are the cherry Cokes.”
Sodas pumped full of extra sugar. No thanks. “I’m sure they’re great,” I offer weakly. “But I’ll just stick with water.”
“Well, then make up for what you’re missing by ordering their loaded burger special.” He waves his menu toward me, pointing out the item he’s recommending. “Giant burger with cheese in a basket of fries. It’s like heaven exploded in your mouth.”
It sounds delicious. My stomach clenches in anticipation. I’m seriously hungry but no way can I eat a burger like that. With a ton of fries, stuffing my face like the pig I can be when I let go and just eat like I want.
“Um, I think I’ll just have…” I look over the menu, trying to find the most inoffensive thing on it. “A grilled chicken sandwich.”
“No fucking way.” He swipes the menu out of my hand. I turn to look at him in shock to find he’s glaring at me. Like he’s mad or something. “Are you trying to be one of those girls who doesn’t eat? Is that what you think I like?”
“My menu choices have nothing to do with you,” I say, returning his glare. “I happen to be on a diet.”
“Why?” He sounds dumbfounded. And can I admit how good it feels when his gaze slides over me nice and slow? “Your body is pretty bangin’.”
My skin goes hot at his words. This is another one of those moments where I should be offended, right? But I’m so not. No boy has ever said I had a bangin’ body before. I’ve always felt chubby but the appreciative gleam I’m seeing in Gabe’s eyes right now tells me he doesn’t see chub.
Which blows my mind.
The waitress reappears, handing over the giant vanilla Coke and my water. “What can I get you?” She never looks at me, not once and I wonder if she’s even aware I’m sitting in the car.
“Two burger baskets with cheese and extra fries,” Gabe says firmly, leaving me gaping. Say what? “And bring my girl a vanilla Coke, too.”
The waitress sends me a withering look, as if she only just noticed me. I scrunch up my nose and wave just the tips of my fingers at her.
“I’ll be right back,” she says lacking enthusiasm as she takes the menus from Gabe and rushes away.