Page 75 of The Downside of Love
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“Why do you have that smile on your face?” Rory asks, coming out of the bathroom looking so goddamn good in a pair of leggings and black shirt with a picture of a taco on it that I want to forget my plans for this morning and toss her back on the bed.
I motion with my finger for her to come to me. She smiles wickedly, hangs up her towel she was scrunching her hair with and closes the space between us where she sits on my lap, her arms instinctively wrapping around my neck.
“Can you blame me for having a smile on my face?” I press a chaste kiss across her lips. “You laid down a Bridget Jones line on me last night.”
She raises a brow, a smile playing at her lips. “Care to explain?”
“You like me for who I am,” I note the famous line from the movie.
She shakes her head. “No, care to explain why you know that movie, let alone the lines in it.”
I chuckle. “You have so much to learn about me.” I wiggle my eyebrows and pat her ass. “Come on, I’m taking you out on our first official date.”
Her eyes widen. “Really? First official date, in the morning?”
I shrug and scoot her off my lap as I stand, but link my hand with hers so as not to lose our connection. “I’m unconventional. Plus I’ve been wanting to take you here ever since I told you about it.”
“And where is that exactly?”
“You’ll see.”
I pocket my wallet in my jeans, grab the keys to my Jeep, lock up, and lead her down the stairway, in complete awe that I’m taking Rory out on a date, that I get to hold her hand, that I get to kiss her when I want to. It’s all still trying to sink in.
Not sure it ever will.
Once in the car and on the road, Rory fiddles with the radio until she finds a song she likes. She rolls down the window, lets the wind whip through her hair, and starts belting out “Versace on the Floor”. Snapping her finger, she really gets into the song, bringing a giant smile to my face.
Chuckling, I say, “You’re so much better than Bruno Mars.”
“You think?”
“Oh one hundred percent. His voice doesn’t crack like yours, the song is much better off pitch.”
Her mouth falls open, humor playing across her eyes as she leans over the center console and pinches my side. “You jerk!”
“Hey, watch it, I’m driving.” I laugh, swatting her away.
“I can’t believe you said I’m a bad singer.”
I shake my head. “No, I said I liked it.”
“It was a back-handed compliment, Stryder Sheppard.”
Laughing even more, I turn the music off and say, “This is how much I like your singing, I want you to sing the song acapella to me.”
“Oh nooo you don’t. No way in hell I’m singing in front of you again.”
“Come on, I’ll sing with you.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “Just so you can rub it in that you have a better voice?”
I cock an eyebrow in her direction. “You think I have a good voice?”
She rolls her eyes, “How did this turn into an insult for me, a compliment for you.”
“I said I liked your voice.” I laugh as she tries to pinch me again.
