because I haven’t gotten laid in damn near a year, and I just got a two-second hand on the thigh like I’m thirteen and about to feel a girl up for the first time.
Reluctantly, my hand leaves her leg and I get out and walk around the car to open her door for her. Her face is a little flushed when I help her out, and I think I may have affected her even more.
I take her hand and say, “C’mon,” and pull her toward the door. Surprisingly, once we’re away from the car and heading up to the entrance, she doesn’t let go.
Fuck me. I’m on a date, holding hands with Mary Patrick. Usually, in the past, my mind would be on getting laid this early in the evening. All I want to do is kiss her right on those innocent lips of hers, though. That’s the only thing I want, and don’t care about anything after that. It’s going to be heavenly torture tonight.
“So how did you really know to bring me here?” Mary takes a huge bite out of a rib.
Fuck, these women from Texas can eat. Tate and Abigail destroy the food spreads at work all the time. It’s fascinating. Mary is no different. Barbeque sauce on her fingers, not giving a damn. She’s perfect.
I snap out of my daydreaming while staring at her. “Oh, it was easy. Combination of it being your top takeout menu in your desk, two different conversations you had with Tate and Abigail about how this was best in the city, and I saw a takeout box in the paralegal refrigerator with your name written on it.”
“How did you know it was takeout from here? Their boxes are plain.”
“Opened it up and saw their logo on a little container thing.”
Her eyes vault open. “You opened my takeout?”
My shoulders start bouncing. “Yeah.” Why hide it now?
She shakes her head, then takes another bite and seemingly forgets everything I just told her.
“So, you’re from Chicago?”
“Not originally.”
“Where’d you grow up?”
“Detroit. Moved here when I was about eighteen.” Damn, I have to be careful with this. I told her I’d be me, but I never talk to anyone about my childhood. I want to tell her so much. I want to start with a clean slate, just everything out in the open, but there are some things I just can’t. She’d run for the hills. Mary is a very forgiving person, but some things are unforgiveable.
I think part of it might be that I don’t want to relive anything too. I don’t want to visit places in my mind I’ve forgotten about.
“You still have family there?”
How do I answer this? “Yes and no.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I think my dad’s still around, but we had a falling out a long time ago. Haven’t seen each other since.”
I look around at this place, trying to change the conversation with my body language.
The restaurant is awesome, and it smells amazing. I got a pulled pork sandwich, and it might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Now, I know barbeque is about the meat, but I’d be remiss not to point out they have the best sides too. We have barbecue beans, macaroni and cheese, corn bread.
I pray Mary is going to leave the interrogation alone. Pushing for more than what I’ve given her would seem a little too intimate for a first date. But this is way more than a first date. We’ve been doing this whole—whatever we’re doing—for a long time.
“Wow, that must be hard.”
Her response catches me a little off guard. “I mean, not really. He’s not a great guy.”
“I can’t imagine not seeing my dad.”
Perfect, I can flip flop this little conversation. “You close with your family?”
“Oh yeah, super close with both my parents, and my siblings. Probably most with my dad, but not by much.”
“They all still in Texas?”
Mary nods. “Yeah.”
I narrow my eyes on her. “You don’t fit in, do you?”
Mary drops her fork. “What?”
“Why’d you move up here? If they’re all down there and you guys are so close?”
Mary squirms a little in her chair. Fuck, I made her uncomfortable.
I hold up a hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be…me.”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay, I told you to be you.” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know, maybe, subconsciously that’s how I feel about it and what drove me here. I’ve never really thought about it that much. I’ve just always felt this urge to not end up there