Page 112 of His to Save
“Like, none of them?” Her eyes bug and her glossy lips make a perfect ‘O.’ Scarlet quickly schools her features, but I saw all I needed to—this is just one more way I’m an oddball.
For a split second, I worry she’s going to laugh at me, but instead, she turns it into a game, where she plays a song and asks if I know it or not. I do pretty good with the older pop, awful with any and everything new, and absolutely kill it with the older rock my dad always listened to.
“Well, that was fun, but are you ready for the best bar-b-que of your life?” Scarlet asks as she whips the car into a parking space, sending gravel dust into the air all around us.
“I guess.” My heart is still thumping hard against my breastbone. Where Atlas is safe and steady, Scarlet drives like a madwoman. Polar opposites.
“Oh, ye of little faith.” She cuts the engine. “You'll see. C'mon.”
I unbuckle my seat belt and open my door, only to instantly be surrounded by the mouthwatering aroma of smoked meats.
“Look at you.” She laughs, nudging me with her elbow. “We're not even through the door and your mouth's watering.”
I don't bother replying, because she's right. It smells amazing, like when I was little and my dad would barbecue forLabor Day. If it tastes even half as good as it smells, this might just become my newest pregnancy craving.
The outside of the building—smell notwithstanding—is nondescript, but the inside is like stepping back in time. String lights dangle overhead and vintage mementos and memorabilia line the wide-plank wooden walls. None of the tables and chairs match, but somehow, it works.
“Do you trust me?” Scarlet asks, quirking a brow.
“Um.” Talk about a loaded question, but strangely enough… “Yes, I do.” Saying the words feels as weird as thinking them, but it feels good, too.
“‘Kay, great. Go make us drinks, Diet Coke for me, and then grab us a table while I order.”
God, she’s bossy.But it works for me; it took me a small eternity to choose a nail polish, so I can only imagine how long it’d take me to navigate the menu and make a decision. The thing is written on a giant chalkboard that takes up almost an entire wall.
After making our drinks and finding us a table near the door, I slide my phone out of my purse and check my notifications. Two texts from Atlas.
Atlas
You having fun, Pip?
Atlas
I told myself I’d let you enjoy your day and not hover and I meant it, but damn, I miss you. Check in with me, yeah? Love you.
My cheeks warm and something low in my belly flutters as I read his messages. He’s totally overbearing and protective and I kind of love it.
I snap a pic of my nails and add it to our text thread.
Me
Surprisingly, I *AM* having fun. We’re getting lunch now. Love you, too.
Atlas
Pretty, Pip. Let me guess… ribs?
Me
How did you know?
Atlas
Scarlet is nothing if not predictable.
Me
That’s not the word I’d use…
