One Night Stand-In (Boyfriend Material #3) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,22
Lucas says.
“Chocolate—the universal woman currency.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
“Yes, please store that safely away.” I point to a free table in the restaurant section of the alley. “Sandwich?”
Lucas smiles. “I’m starving.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “And I thought you said you weren’t hungry.”
“Guess I worked up an appetite,” he says wryly. “Also, it’s my treat.”
“You don’t have to pay. We can go dutch.”
“C’mon, Dumont. You were the first to say ‘Pin-Up Lanes.’”
“But you figured out the cheese shop,” I point out, smiling inside because we’re mostly getting along. That will make it easier to make it through the long night. All we have to do is focus on the present, because rehashing the past makes me see red.
“But the bet was for the first clue,” he adds. “Ergo, the meal is on me.”
I hold up my hands in surrender. “My stomach won’t let me turn you down.” We head to the table, and he angles the two guitar cases against the wall. I nod at the instruments. “I live a few blocks away. We can drop those off after this so we don’t have to lug them around all night.”
“Good plan,” he says, then opens the menu on the table, closing it one second later. “Burger for me.”
“And a portabella mushroom sandwich for me,” I say, remembering fondly all our meals together in school, and how when we got along, we were a freaking house on fire. “They’re the best. Especially with the rosemary fries.”
He groans. “Damn. Just tempt me a little more.”
“Fries were always your weakness,” I say. “Even the cafeteria ones.”
“And do you blame me? Those were insanely good. I think they seasoned them with some intoxicating drug designed to make you eat them every night.”
“I believe it’s called salt and carbs.”
“Ah, yes. That’s definitely a designer drug, and I’m addicted to it.”
“I’d sell my soul for those rosemary fries though. They’re that good.”
“Let’s make it a double, then.”
A waiter swings by, and we place our orders, adding a beer for Lucas and a gin and tonic for me.
When the waiter leaves, Lucas stares at me, an intense look in his dark eyes. It’s a look I remember from when we used to go to museums together and check out the art, studying it from different angles, trying to find hidden meanings in it. Back when we were friends.
I furrow my brow. “Is everything okay?”
“I was just thinking about tonight. It’s kind of funny that they argue about where they met. Whether it was the party or the button shop or the comic shop. I think maybe they saw each other at those other places, but they didn’t”—he stops to sketch air quotes—“officially meet till the party.”
“That makes sense with Luna’s version of the locked eyes across the button shop.”
“And neither one of us figured out the correct answer to the first clue because we were both too distracted at the party to notice they’d even been there for a few minutes.”
“Speak for yourself. I wasn’t distracted,” I say, goading him because I can.
His gaze locks with mine. “I was speaking for myself. I was definitely distracted by you at that party,” he says, and my skin sizzles as he does that thing again with his voice, letting it dip low and sexy. “But hey, if you don’t want to admit you were distracted, that’s fine. I’ll keep your secret, Dumont.”
I groan. “You’re infuriating.”
“So are you. Especially since you refuse to admit how sidetracked you were by my fireman costume, when I’ve already opened my heart and told you how I felt about your pussycat.”
“Oh my God, that’s hardly opening your heart,” I say, laughing.
He smiles. “Maybe it is though.”
“Okay. Your big fireman’s heart was so distracting,” I tease.
“Thank you,” he says, straightening his shoulders. “I had a feeling it was. What with my heart being covered in concrete and all.” He pats his pecs. “Your words, darling.”
I roll my eyes. “Like I said, you’re infuriating.”
“And I’ll take it as a compliment, since you’re exactly the same way,” he says, but then he drops the teasing like it’s a hot poker. He leans forward and scrubs a hand across his chin, like he’s deep in thought. “But here’s the other thing that’s funny. We kind of argued over the same thing way back when. How we met. Do you remember?”
You bet I do.
8
Lucas
I can still picture the day perfectly. I can recall how we chatted during our graphic design studio class junior year and finally exchanged names.