Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
June
I don’t like chicken fingers. The smell of Flynn’s car makes me gag with bile. When I step out of it at the restaurant, I hide my cringe because something sticky on the car seat makes a gooey sound as I peel my butt from it.
His brow furrows when I wrinkle my nose. “Shit. Was there something on the seat?”
I try not to laugh. The seat is black, but I’m pretty sure the original fabric color was beige. Yeah, there’s a lot of somethings caked on the seat.
“It’s fine,” I say. Wiping my backside.
He twists his torso, inspecting my butt.
“Are you staring at my ass?” I keep my hand over the sticky spot because I don’t want to make him feel bad.
“I’m inspecting your shorts. I’ll get that seat cleaned tomorrow.” He closes my door, and we head into the restaurant. “And you have a nice ass,” he says. “In case there’s a poll about it or something like that. Ten out of ten.”
I playfully nudge him, any excuse to touch him because I’m dying for him to kiss me. Grab my hand. My ass. Whatever. Just touch me!
He keeps his gaze ahead of us, but he still grins and nudges me back.
While he orders at the counter, I pick out a table.
This is my first fast-food date. I’m about to eat food I don’t like while trying not to think about the mystery sticky substance on my shorts.
Yet my head continues to spin from him literally sweeping me off my feet, the near kiss, and the way he instinctively put himself between me and the car driving down the street.
If he were my muse, I’d write love songs about all the things I never knew I wanted—until him. Songs about falling. Butterflies. Goosebumps. And of course, being swept off my feet.
It’s too soon. Too fast. Too everything.
It’s also undeniable, and if I’m being honest, it feels uncontrollable.
Flynn carries the tray of food to the drink station, fills our cups, and grabs napkins and packets of ketchup.
When he spots me, he grins. I’ve seen a lot in my life, things other people would only dream of, but this man smiling at me might be the vision that hits me hardest in the chest. He’s just …
I don’t even know the right words. Definitely unexpected in the best possible way.
“I didn’t know if you wanted coop sauce or just ketchup, so I got both. You deserve options,” he says, sitting across from me.
“I don’t know what coop sauce is, but I’ll try it.”
“I know this isn’t fancy—”
“It’s perfect,” I say, interrupting him. “Like really really perfect.”
He eyes me while taking a drink of his soda, grinning around the straw.
“I’m serious.” I laugh, opening a packet of ketchup.
“I’m not a fancy person.” Flynn opens his ketchup with his teeth.
“I hadn’t noticed.” I dip my chicken into the special sauce.
“It’s weird seeing the stupid shit that matters to rich people.”
“Define stupid shit,” I say.
“A big house. The Rawlings’ mansion is ridiculously big for two people. They don’t even sleep in the same bedroom, and it’s still too big. They have one child and a dining room table that seats twelve.”
“Maybe they like getting good sleep. Maybe they like having dinner parties.” I shrug before taking another bite of chicken. It’s better than I expected. Just one more unexpected moment with Flynn Morley.
He dips at least five fries at the same time into his pile of ketchup. “If I had a wife, I wouldn’t sleep on the other side of the house. Ya never know what could happen. If she couldn’t sleep with me in bed with her, I’d just sleep on the floor.”
I slow my chewing.
“What?” he says.
“You’d sleep on the floor?”
“Of course. The man of the house should protect what’s important. What’s more important than family?” He shrugs a shoulder, but then he chuckles. “But what do I know? I’ve never had a family. Maybe that’s why I think I’d do whatever it took to protect one if I had the chance.”
I now believe Flynn has never dated, because if he had, he’d be married. Some woman would have snatched him up. I don’t know if I’m ready to snatch anyone up, but I’m definitely putting Flynn on my wish list. Clicking the heart icon. And I know I’ll think about him long after our date ends.
“But seriously,” he says. “Can you imagine that life? A big house. Never thinking twice about what something costs? Steak for dinner? Fresh produce. Eating a whole avocado with your breakfast?”
I chuckle. “I think that is the life to imagine. I fear the life you had growing up is what’s unimaginable.”
“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”
“Flynn, you’re eating dinner with Minneapolis’ best tour guide. No one can feel sorry for you.” I give him my best flirty grin. Playing hard to get is overrated. Or maybe it’s not. I think he’s been playing me for the past week, and he’s still doing it.
He chews slowly, studying me. “You did that on our first date too.”
“Did what?” I narrow my eyes.
“You jokingly suggested that I should feel lucky to be with you.”
“Oh, no. I mean. Yeah. I’m totally joking.” I hope he knows I’m kidding. I’m just nervous.
He uses his middle two fingers to slowly wipe his mouth. “Well, you should be serious because I’m seriously feeling lucky to be with you.”
I’m sure my face is every shade of red, unable to hide my attraction to him. “Thank you,” I whisper before clearing my throat. “I feel lucky to be with you too.”
“Liar.” He chuckles, leaning back in his chair.
“I’m not lying.” I reach across the table and hold out my hand.
He stares at it for a minute, like he doesn’t trust me. But as he lifts his gaze to my face, he rests his hand on mine. My fingers tease his wrist, and he does the same to mine.
The chills are real. And those butterflies flutter out of control.
“When are you going to kiss me?” I ask.
My mom said she didn’t play it cool with my dad when they met. I knew I would be different. And I tried to be cool and make Flynn chase me, but I’m failing.
“I don’t know.” He gives me a sexy smirk. “I feel like we missed our first-kiss moment. This attraction now feels worthy of more than a kiss.”
I giggle, sitting back in my chair while grabbing my drink. “We’re not going to walk before we crawl.”
His eyebrows slide up his forehead. “June, are you implying that you want to get on your knees?”
“Oh, my gosh! No.”
Flynn eats up my embarrassment like a second helping of chicken fingers. “Are you done?” He points to my leftover food.
I nod. “It was good, but I’m full.”
“Well, can’t let it go to waste.” He shoves the rest of my fries into his mouth, chews a few times before swallowing, and inhales the rest of my chicken.
It’s hard to keep my smile from faltering. Does he go without food when he runs out of money between paychecks?
“Wanna get out of here?” he asks after downing the rest of his drink and mine.
“Sure.”
When we pull out of the parking lot, I don’t ask him where we’re going. He’s pretty good at surprising me, so I let him take the lead. We end up near the lake. A different lake. He turns onto a street that heads up a steep hill.
“That’s the Rawlings’ mansion.” He points to the right.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Ya think?”
“Of course,” I say. “It has an old charm to it.”
“Yeah, but would you want to live there?”
I shrug. “I mean, I would. It’s just a house.”
“Just a house? Are you blind?”
“No,” I mumble, staring at the house. “I’m not blind. I see everything that’s special and heartbreaking.”
“Heartbreaking?”
I nod. “It’s heartbreaking because the people who live here have hired someone to inspire life.
” I touch my palm to the window as if the view before me is a picture in a frame.
“But it could just as easily house kids, a dog, maybe a bird or two. Laughter could bounce off the walls and echo in the rafters. But either way, it’s just four walls and a roof. ”
“June, that place has a lot more than four walls.”
I face him and grin. “You know what I mean.”
He bobs his head. “Yes and no. You’re much smarter than me.”
I want to lean forward and kiss him, but I fear he’ll deny me again.
“No kids. No bird,” he says. “But there’s a cat. After the matinee (with those ridiculous subtitles), Mrs. Rawlings mentioned wanting a cat, so I took her to a shelter. Of course, her grumpy husband doesn’t like cats, but she ended up adopting one anyway.”
“You went to a matinee today?”
He sighs with a frown. “Unfortunately. This job is so random. I’m sure Mr. Rawlings loves that he no longer has to take her to movies with subtitles.”
“And then you took her to adopt a cat?”
He nods. “Why are you grinning like that? I know, it’s a stupid job. Rich people are stupid. Well, they’re probably not actually stupid, but they do stupid things. Too much money makes you—”
“Stupid?” I laugh.
“Exactly.”
“Let’s go knock on their door,” I say.
“What?” Flynn’s face sours.
I open my door. “Let’s go say hi.”
“You don’t stop and say hi to your boss.” He turns off the car and jumps out when I close the door, making my way to the sidewalk. “June, I just saw them a little over an hour ago. This is weird and a terrible idea.” I grab her wrist, and she turns toward me.
“They’re just people, Flynn.”
“Rich people.”
“Sad people,” I say.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m off the clock. It’s not my job to inspire anyone at the moment.”
“Kindness isn’t a job. You don’t have to inspire anyone. We’ll just say hi.” I pull out of his hold and continue toward their front door.
“Jesus. This is crazy. What am I supposed to say when Mr. Rawlings answers the door? They might not even be here. Maybe they’ve gone to dinner at some fancy schmancy place.”
“Maybe,” I say before ringing the doorbell. “If that’s the case, then we’ll leave.”
“I think we should break up,” he says with the grumpiest expression.
I giggle until I feel it in my belly, until the front door opens.
The man at the door resembles George Clooney. It’s striking, really. He eyes Flynn with confusion before softening his gaze for me. “Hi,” he says.