Page 119 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“Obviously that’s what needs to happen,” I agree. “And dare I say…possibly matching?”
“Clearly they have to be matching,” he replies. “What are we, barbarians?”
“I know I’m not.”
“And I sure as hell am not. You saw me back there with that cake…no cake left behind.”
“It was an impressive takedown of a confectionery treat.”
“Thank you.” He curtly bows like a doofus. “When you were not kissing Timothy, I took a selfie of me and the cake.”
“You did not.”
He brings his phone out of his pocket and flashes me the front screen.
“You made it your wallpaper?” I ask.
“It was a good fucking cake. If you need to know one thing about me, Plum, it’s that I like the sweet stuff even when I try to tell people I don’t.”
I stare at the picture of him and the cake and chuckle to myself. “That picture is ridiculous.”
“It’s a memory I never want to forget.” He places his phone back in his pocket and says, “Okay, let’s go find shirts.”
Together, we cross the street and head toward Fisherman’s Wharf. A trolly passes by, tinging its bell while tourists stop to take pictures near Umbrella Alley. The skies are clear, the sun setting, and even though there’s a chill in the air, I feel warm as I walk next to Hardy. His arm occasionally bumps against mine, and it takes everything in me not to take his hand, link our fingers together, lean into him and his touch.
This is not a date, Everly.
This is a friendly hang out.
Do not do anything stupid.
“Are you an In-N-Out fan?” he asks as the fast-food joint appears up ahead. Unlike the typical free-standing location, this one is tucked into an already existing building. It looks more like an old-timey movie theater rather than one of the flagship restaurants.
“I am,” I say. “Big fan. What about you?”
“I think it would be very un-Californian to not be a fan.”
“Agreed,” I answer. “It’s all about the Double-Double animal style.”
“Easily the only thing you can order from there. Do you ever dip the fries in the leftover sauce that drips from the burger?” he asks as he points at a souvenir shop up ahead with a large sign stating T-shirts are sold there.
“My favorite way to eat the fries,” I say. “And you know what, I get really irritated when people say they can’t stand the In-N-Out fries.”
“Me too,” he says. “Fuck, sorry they’re made fresh and don’t have carcinogens inside of them.”
I pause on our way toward a souvenir shop. “Do other fries have carcinogens?”
He chuckles. “Probably not, but that was the first thing that came to mind.”
“I believe if you like In-N-Out fries then you have a refined palate, one that can enjoy the good taste of a potato.”
“Agreed, and if you prepare them properly, then you’re in for a solid meal. There are salt packets offered by the ketchup for a reason. You lightly dust them with some salt, dip them in the burger sauce, and then munch, munch, munch.”
“Clearly, munching all day every day,” I say.
“I love to munch,” he replies with a wink, and I feel my cheeks go red. “Glad we’re on the same page though. Not sure I could have matching San Francisco shirts with someone who doesn’t like In-N-Out.”
“It would be an immediate no for me,” I reply.
