Page 6 of Just Keep Driving

“How long have you been going on shitty dates?” His grin reappearing.

I laugh out loud.

“My whole damn life.” I can’t say when I had my last good date. It’s been fail after fail after fail. Men ain’t shit.

We step forward again. “Damn. What’s your ideal date then?”

I shrug. Literally nice conversation with someone who doesn’t stink at this point. “Something that just feels natural. No expensive restaurants. Nothing extravagant. A good date is a good vibe.”

“Number 47!” The lady holding a styrofoam container out the pick-up window yells as we step up to order. I haven’t even thought about what I want. Champ suggested carne asada, and they do sound good.

“What’ll you two beautiful people have?”

“The number 4. Carne asada.” Champ answers before stepping to the side.

“I’ll have what he’s having.” I don’t want to hold up the line thinking too hard about this.

“Throw in one variety pack,” Champ adds. “It’ll be a little sampler for you.” He uses his phone to pay, and we step aside.

“Do you take all of the women from bad dates out to eat?”

“Just the gorgeous ones with freckles.”

Chapter 4 Eat Your Heart Out

Lydea

Champ leads me to an empty picnic table, grabbing the trash someone left and tossing it into the nearby can. He sits down across from me, and the way he looks at me takes all the breath out of my body.

He’s not looking at me like he wants anything from me. He’s looking at me like he sees me. Like I'm the most interesting thing out here tonight. And I’m definitely not. There’s a couple yelling loudly at each other just across from us because one of them ate the last taco. It’s distracting and jolting, and he barely seems to notice.

“What are you getting into when you get home?”

I tilt my head and look up at him through my lashes. “My shower, then my bed.”

“It’s not even nighttime yet.”

“Sometimes you gotta put the day to bed.”

“Today’s been that bad?” His smile reveals a perfect set of teeth.

“You know, I’m starting to forget bits and pieces of it.” I unwrap one of the tacos and take a bite. A moan escapes before I can rein it in.

Champ licks his lips and watches me chew, and I don’t feel weird about him watching. The taco is just that good.

“Well, now my night is perfect.” I say between chews.

“Because of the tacos?” Champ’s head tilts to the side.

“Tacos added some major points.”

“I love a point system,” he tells me, shifting in his seat.

“Oh yeah?”

He unwraps and bites his taco, and the thoughts in my mind vanish. Yes. He’s objectively handsome. And funny. And sweet.

Dammit though, he’s sexy.