Hard Fall (Trophy Boyfriends #2) - Sara Ney Page 0,28
me! What did you find?”
God this is great news.
“Would you keep your voice down?” she murmurs.
People are starting to stare, not that I give a shit. A few of them seem to recognize me, but so far, none of them have approached us.
“I googled you after we ran into each other at the stadium, because you looked familiar but I couldn’t remember your name. So I looked you up—it’s not a crime, jeez.”
No, but it means she was curious enough to go searching for my name.
We stand and goof around for a few more minutes before Rebecca comes over. It sure as shit hasn’t been the forty-five we were told we’d be waiting, but I don’t want to cause a scene by insisting we wait longer, so we let her lead us to the far corner.
Chips and salsa are placed on the table almost immediately. Guac, too, and water. I don’t bother picking up the menu, because I always order the same thing, but Hollis has never been here, so she peruses the list of options like a skilled restaurateur.
“What are you having? And please don’t say a chimichanga.”
She laughs. “I’m getting two soft shells and two hard shells, thank you very much.”
“Beef, chicken, or pork?” I ask as I collect her menu.
“Um, beef.”
“Sides? Rice, beans, or both?”
She cocks her head at me. “Rice?”
I nod. “Would you like to add a quesadilla for a dollar?”
“Sure.”
“Anything to drink?”
“Um, this water is fine—wait, what is going on? Do you work here now?”
Now we’re both laughing, laughing until the actual server comes to take our order, and I repeat everything Hollis just told me, plus my order, and soon we’re alone again, laughing.
“You are so strange,” she says quietly.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
She’s quiet, and it’s loud in this place from all the people—plus the sound of myself eating chips certainly does not help—so I concentrate on what she’s about to say. What was it my mom calls it? Active listening?
“It’s a…it’s…” She seems hesitant to answer, and a knot forms in the pit of my stomach. I thought we were making headway here. I thought— “It’s a good thing.”
I slouch in my chair, tortilla chip dangling from my lips like a limp cigarette. “Thank fucking Christ.”
“Pardon me?”
Pretty sure I mumbled that under my breath, but apparently not. “I said, Thank god.” I’m going to hell for lying. “I’m glad you think it’s a good thing that I’m strange.” Wait… “How is that a good thing, exactly?”
I pound a few more chips down my gullet while she deliberates.
“It’s good because it’s unexpected. Not to fuel your ego, but you’re not what I was expecting. At all.” She takes a chip, dips it in salsa, and pops it in her mouth. I wish she’d stop eating because I want to hear what she has to say.
About me, ha ha.
“What were you expecting?”
“You to be more of a douchebag.”
You and every other decent female on the planet. “No, tell me how you really feel, Hollis.”
Am I imagining it, or did she just shiver when I said her name? She can’t be cold; she’s wearing jeans.
“Hollis.” I say her name again and—there’s the shiver. “Hollis.”
“Stop it!” She laughs, throwing a chip across the table. It hits me in the chest, and I pick it off my shirt and stick it in my mouth.
Chew.
“Crunchy and delicious,” I tell her with a full mouth, and I almost do say something douchey—something like, Crunchy and delicious like I imagine you’d be, but that’s the most idiotic thing to say and makes zero sense, and I have the wherewithal to keep my big mouth shut for once.
“Soooo…” she starts, holding another chip in her hand, breaking it into two pieces and setting them on her tongue, one at a time. “What else is going on? Besides work?”
I stuff three chips in my mouth at once, wash them down with water, and wipe my hands on a napkin before responding. “Other than seeing my parents and hanging out at Harding’s house, I don’t know. Reading and shit.”
Reading and shit? Real fucking eloquent, you tool.
But Hollis’s brows shoot up, and I see that I’ve managed to surprise her, yet again. “That’s right. You said you’re in a book club, but do you actually do the reading?”
More chips go in my mouth. I like the idea of making her wait for my answers, especially when she seems so intent on hearing them.