Logan
Pit stop number two on the first day of our road-trip adventure turned out to be an old-fashioned roadside diner, which was a far cry from the haunted amusement park Ellie had dragged me to earlier. I’d let her choose every stop on this first leg, so I had no one to blame but myself.
I still felt a little jumpy after that park. The workers, the creaking rides, the everything. But it had been fun, mostly because Ellie’s laughter made even the creepy parts worth it.
“I still can’t believe that guy scammed me,” I grumbled as I pulled the truck into the gravel lot. The neon sign out front spun lazily, blinking red and turquoise against the softened blue sky. The building was spotless, but it had that perfect retro vibe, like we’d driven straight into a postcard.
Ellie’s laugh bubbled out, her head tipping back so her blond hair cascaded down her shoulders. Brown eyes met mine, sparkling. “I bet he gets at least a dozen suckers a day. You had no idea those bottles were weighted.”
“At least he let me pick a prize,” I muttered.
She lifted her purse, letting the keychain I’d “won” clink against a tiny plastic Magic 8-Ball and a plush cow.
We made our way inside, and a burst of jukebox music hit us—Elvis crooning beneath the clatter of dishes. Black-and-white checkerboard floors gleamed under bright fluorescents. The red-vinyl booths looked like they’d been lifted straight from the fifties.
“Welcome in!” a voice screeched. I turned to see the hostess—Lottie, her name tag read. She had strawberry-blond hair piled high, jaw working gum like she was mad at it. “You two must be driving through.”
“We are,” Ellie said with a smile and a huff. “What gave it away?”
Lottie eyed us up and down a beat before saying, “I can read people. I think I got it from my grandma—we called her Mee-Maw. Give me two minutes in a room with anyone, and I can tell ya their whole life story.” She leaned down on the hostess stand elbow first to rest her chin on her hand.
“I miss that old hag. She made some of the best chicken noodle soup.” She let out a deep, loud cackle.
“Funny story. She raised her own chickens for this legendary soup, right? Which meant she was the one to, ya know.” Lottie raised a hand and dragged her thumb across her neck.
“Yeah, got it,” I said, shifting and putting my hands in my pockets. I glanced at Ellie, who was enthralled by Lottie’s story—arms crossed, hip popped as she nodded along. If it weren’t for her interest, I’d politely ask Lottie to show us to our table instead.
“Well, this one time.” Lottie snorted. “She cut the chicken’s head off, and the body jumped right off the table and ran around her living room!
Can you believe it? Mee-Maw had to chase after it but she wasn’t quite quick enough.
Gerry, her old beagle, caught it first, and then he ran around with the body. ”
Ellie giggled along, and I forced my best courtesy laugh, all while Lottie was doubled over recounting the memory.
“That’s a funny story,” Ellie said.
“Oh well, dear I have plenty where that came from.”
“Lottie!” A voice called, and we all looked to an older gentleman who stood a distance away, glasses on the tip of his nose as he shot her a pointed glare.
Lottie turned back to us with her lips pulled tight in a half smile.
“That’s my cue to get y’all to a table. He’s a bit of a grump, doesn’t believe in fun.
If I could leave you two with a piece of life advice, don’t allow a good opportunity to slip your fingers.
I had a chance to perform on Broadway, and I missed the audition because of a bad case of food poisoning from a sushi place in the city.
Don’t let anything—not even bad sushi—get in the way of what you love.
” Lottie recoiled, like she was reliving that moment. “Is it just the two of you?”
“Please,” Ellie said, shining her sweetest smile. Lottie grabbed menus and flatware, then jerked her head—a silent, Follow me.
As crazy as Lottie seemed, her advice struck me, hitting a little too close to home.
Ellie shot me a wide-eyed look. I mouthed, Geez, and rested a guiding hand on the small of her back as we wound through the maze of booths.
Even with the music, the neon, and the hum of strangers’ conversations, the only thing I noticed was how perfectly her body fit beneath my palm and how right it felt to keep her close.
Spending this kind of time with her, just the two of us, was slowly destroying every ounce of restraint I had.
Each glance, each stolen moment, only deepened the ache I’d been trying to bury.
Every mile we drove together added weight to the truth I hadn’t told her yet: I was in love with my best friend’s little sister.
Maybe it was the distance from our hometown, our friends, that made this urge to spill it all so strong.
I would tell her. I would. Just… not yet. Not while everything was still so raw with Miles.
Lottie’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“Your waiter will be right with you,” she said. “He is a bit… much, so watch out.”
Ellie and I said nothing, just exchanged a look before sliding into the booth across from each other. More than her? I doubted that.
“Okay, is it just me, or is she a little kooky?” I whispered, leaning in slightly.
Ellie mirrored my movement, her eyes locking on mine with a grin. “Not just you. She’s definitely kooky. But I kind of liked it. I am scared, considering she thinks we should watch out.”
We stayed that way—leaning across the table, caught in some kind of invisible thread that kept pulling us closer.
Her gaze softened, then shifted, a flicker of something new in her expression.
Her lips parted slightly, like she was about to say something, or maybe…
like she was thinking about what it would be like if I leaned in and kissed her right there.
That was my stupid mind hoping for the best.
The air between us grew heavy. The world faded. It was just her. Just me.
Until—
“Can we stop playing googly eyes and read the damn menu? I don’t have all day, Hercules.”
Both our heads snapped up in unison.
Standing beside the table was an older man, tall and gangly, with a full head of silver hair and round wire-rimmed glasses. He looked like he belonged in a sitcom, and not the charming kind.
I blinked, confused. “Uh… what?”
“Y’all deaf or just in love?” he asked, hands on his hips. “Drinks? Or should I come back after your wedding? What do you think, Princess Peach?”
I stared at him, stunned into silence. Ellie, on the other hand, couldn’t hold it together as she burst out laughing.
“Princess Peach?” she asked between laughs, her mouth open in disbelief.
“You got the look. All sweet and cartoony,” he said, waving his pen at her. “Now come on, focus up, lovebirds. We’re slammed.”
I glanced around the half-empty restaurant. “Slammed” wasn’t exactly the word I’d use. A few other tables were occupied, and there were at least three other waiters walking around, none of them looking particularly rushed.
“I’ll have an orange soda,” I said with a resigned sigh.
“Diet Coke,” Ellie added, still grinning.
He rolled his eyes like we were the problem and wandered off.
Ellie leaned across the table again, voice low. “We can totally leave. What is going on here?”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, forcing a laugh. “Maybe he’s just having a bad day.”
“I swear, when I saw this place online, I had no idea it was like this.”
She pulled out her phone and tapped away. I let my eyes wander again, this time paying closer attention. A group in the corner was cracking up as their server tossed paper hats on their heads with what looked like words scribbled across them.
“Oh. My. God.”
“What?” I asked.
Ellie turned her phone toward me, sliding it across the table. “This is their thing. It’s like… part of the restaurant gimmick. It’s like a show.”
I blinked. “People want to be insulted with their fries?”
“Apparently!” She clapped, eyes lighting up with giddy amusement. “We can be rude back! This is like my dream come true.”
I dropped my head into my hands with a laugh. “Of course it is.”
Two stops into this road trip, and somehow, Ellie had already managed to pack enough chaos, charm, and surprise into a single day to last me a lifetime.
And I had a feeling this was only the beginning.
It wasn’t long before our waiter returned—same grumpy energy, fully committed to the bit.
“All right,” he muttered, pen poised over his notepad, refusing to make eye contact. “Which one of you wants to start?”
“Well, my shnookums,” Ellie said sweetly, her voice dripping with mischief. “He’ll have the quesadilla burger.”
His eyes flicked up, a twitch of amusement slipping through his practiced scowl as Ellie smirked across the table at me. I shot her a glare, but couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.
“And for me,” she added, leaning back against the booth like royalty, “I’m absolutely starving, so go ahead and give me one of everything.”
Gregg—according to the bold letters on his apron—froze mid-scribble, his brows creeping toward his hairline. Slowly, he looked up at her, one eye half-squinted like it might start twitching.
“Did I stutter?” Ellie asked with a challenge in her voice, her chin tilted just enough to make her look like trouble and temptation wrapped in one.
For a moment, he was stunned. Then he nodded, slipping right back into character. “Oh, she bites back,” he said with a grin of approval. “Hope you’ve got the funds, big guy.”
“The lady can get whatever she wants,” I replied, straight-faced, even as Ellie lifted her chin higher in mock pride, absolutely reveling in the moment.
Gregg tossed up his hands in mock surrender, then disappeared into the kitchen.
Once he was gone, I leaned in and whispered, “What the heck are we going to do with all that food?”
She waved a hand, totally unbothered. “It’s only six things. I’m going to get hungry later. And come on, who doesn’t love cold road-trip leftovers?”
God, this woman.