Page 21 of Fortuity

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Page 21 of Fortuity

“That isn’ttoobad.”

“It really isn’t,” I agreed, finally giving in to the lure of the bread basket and pulling out a warm slice. I slathered it with butter, took a small bite, chewed, and swallowed before I continued. “Everything else is pretty manageable. Regular exercise, eating healthy, limiting my exposure to the sun—thingslikethat.”

He nodded and rubbed the left side of his chest. “I guess I was lucky when it came to that atleast.”

“What doyoumean?”

“Other than some mild pain meds for a short amount of time, I didn’t have to take anything after I was discharged from the hospital. Exercising and eating healthy”—he flashed me a grin—“or at least mostly healthy, aren’t too much of a problem for me because I was pretty serious about football back when I was in high school. So it wasn’t much of a lifestyle changeforme.”

“I get what you’re saying, but I count myself very lucky to be taking those pills each and every day. There are more than eighty thousand people waiting on the transplant list, and seventeen of them dieeveryday.”

“Shit,” he hissed, rearing back inhisseat.

“Yeah, I should have been one of those seventeen, but somehow a miracle occurredforme.”

“Thank fuckforthat.”

I liked how that came out. Low. Raspy. Heartfelt. “You can say thatagain.”

“How about I just say that I’m glad you got yourmiracle.”

I liked that even more, but I wanted to lighten the mood a little and thought back to that day I’d first seen him again. “You aren’t serious about footballanymore?”

“No, my injuries were too extensive. College football wasn’t in the cardsforme.”

He seemed so sad that I found myself apologizing. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hardforyou.”

“It wasn’t losing football that was hard,itwas—”

The waiter chose that moment to appear with our orders, and the moment was lost. I was too distracted by the ridiculously delicious smells coming from our plates to remember what we’d been talking about by the time the waiter offered us grated parmesan, refilled our waters, and left usalone.

I popped the rest of my bread into my mouth and spooned a portion of my dish onto his empty bread plate. He did the same for me with his lasagna, and I savored it before digging into my pasta primavera. We were fairly quiet as we devoured our food...right up until the waiter dropped off the check and I pulled some cash out of my purse. It sucked to plop that much down on dinner when I could’ve eaten at the cafeteria for free, but I figured I still came out ahead since I hadn’t needed to pay for a rideshare, the food was way better than what I would’ve gotten at school, and I’d actually enjoyed getting to know Dillon since he was different from the entitled jerk I’dexpected.

“You’ve met my mom, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that she’d kill me if I didn’t pay when I took a girl out for dinner,” he explained as he slid several bills into the black portfolio and handed it to the waiter, pushing my money backtome.

“But this isn’tlikethat.”

“Isn’tlikewhat?”

I waited until we were outside to answer since it seemed rude to have a discussion while we were walking past other tables of people enjoying theirmeals.

“I’m sure your mom would understand since it’s not the same as if you’d asked a girl to dinner on likea...date.”

Dillon chuckled low, shaking his head as he pressed the button on his key fob to unlock the car and opened the passenger side door for me. I didn’t understand what he found so funny until he’d gotten in, pulled out of the parking lot, and decided to explain it to me. “It’s exactly like that,Faith.”

“It’s not,” Iinsisted.

“Did I ask you to come to dinnerwithme?”

“Wellyeah,but—”

“Are youagirl?”

“Of courseIam.”

“Am Iaguy?”

“Yes,” Ihuffed.

“Then how is this notadate?”

Well, hell.I’d gone out on a date with Dillon Montgomery and hadn’t even realized it was happening until he clued me in right before he dropped me off atmydorm.


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