Page 67 of Unravel Me

“Well, no wonder you were busy! Nice to meet you, honey.”

“I brought her here to try the world’s best breakfast.” Rhett winks at Rosie as she sets down menus, leaving us be. A warm feeling fills me as I playfully kicked Rhett’s foot under the table.

“I think she’s sweet on you.”

Rhett laughs, bringing his coffee up to his lips. “Rosie’s worked here since I was a child. My grandparents used to take me and Desi here on Saturday mornings to give my parents a break. Desi would sit all nice, never making a stir. I, on the other hand…well, my grandpa would have to threaten to whoop my ass because I was always running all around this place.”

“So, this is a true hometown staple for you?”

He nods with vigor, resting his elbows on the table.

“I took my first date to this diner when I was fifteen. We sat right there.” He points to the two stools at the end of the counter. “And Ky and I carved our names into this table when we were juniors.” He rolls his eyes, embarrassed but I chuckle, loving every morsel of Rhett.

“So, which one of you is the bad influence?”

Rhett points at himself. “I was. I’ve grown up though. As you can see.” He winks, but I scoff.

“Yeah, right. Okay.” I snort and Rhett flashes me a devilish grin.

“Ky is a cool guy. We were neighbors growing up, his mom and dad still live there actually. He’s like a brother to me. When my dad died, he spent the summer working with me at the farm so I wouldn’t be alone. He was a wild teenager, but he’s brilliant, too. He’s a tech hot shot now but still lives here in town.”

“That’s really sweet. Sounds like Ky is your Penny.” I smile, thinking about my best friend. “We need to get together, the four of us,” I add, and Rhett shakes his head, his eyes twinkling.

“Now you’re really trying to start trouble, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I add coyly, sipping my coffee. “Well, this place must be special if both you and Ky stayed.”

“It is. But enough about me, yeah? You must have stories, too, or a place you always went, the hangout spot, as a kid or teen. Tell me about it.” He eggs on but I pinch my lips together, pretending to rack my brain for something that’s not there.

“Yeah, it’s called my bedroom studying, or the tennis court.” I shake my head. “I spent a lot of my teenage years doing an insane amount of extracurriculars. Like more than anyone should be required to do. My parents made sure I stayed busy, and if I had a spare moment, it surely wasn’t spent hanging out or having fun,” I replied, raising my eyebrows. “And as you already know, there were definitely no charming diners. I think I mentioned Andrew and I had nannies until we were teenagers, and there was always a private chef, so going out to eat as a family wasn’t a thing. I mean, sure my parents went out on dates, or to events, but Andrew and I were always being chauffeured around, eating on the go or at home alone.”

I felt embarrassed for reasons I knew I shouldn’t. I grew up never wanting a single item. I had everything and more. But I don’t have a single memory of sitting in a diner with my grandparents. It’s a foreign daydream that sounds so lovely.

Rhett tries to hide the sadness on his face as Rosie approaches us again.

“What will it be?” she asks, pen on pad.

Realizing I haven’t even glanced at the menu, I look frantically at Rhett.

“You like waffles?” He smirks and I nod. “Okay Rosie, two classic waffles with strawberries. Bacon and eggs on the side. Thank you.” He slides the menus back to her.

“Trust me, you’re going to love them. And if you don’t —well shit, I think I'd have to dump you.”

“Oh yeah? Who knew so much was riding on breakfast.” I kicked him again, but this time he reached under the table, squeezing my leg, making me jolt in my seat, laughing.

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

I’m relieved he doesn’t ask any more questions about my past. And he isn’t wrong. The waffles are better than an orgasm. Well, almost.

“Damn, girl.” Rhett enters through the backdoor as I pull the baking sheet from the oven.

I’m a hot mess; my apron shifted sideways on me, three different timers going, and not an inch of countertop is clean, but pride swells in me, because I have done this all myself. Tonight, we are hosting Sunday dinner at Rhett’s house, and his family will be here any moment now.

“I know, I made a lot. But I never got to cook for anyone really, so this is fun for me.”

His eyes roam over everything but he smiles, and relief floods me. I just want to get this right.

“You don’t have to buy their love; you know they already like you. Like, so much, and I can’t figure out why…”