“No.” Her mouth snaps shut.
I let a deep boisterous laugh escape me, which only causes her to narrow her gaze. “You do! You like me.”
She mashes her lips together and shakes her head. “I don’t hate you.”
“Same difference.”
“No, it’s really not.” There. She rolls her eyes again.
“I’ll take it. We should celebrate. You hungry?”
She looks around. Most of the roadies and staff are gone now, and she shrugs. “I could eat. Don’t you have sound check?”
“Not until four. Come on, let’s go grub. I spotted a dive just around the corner.”
I count it a success when she doesn’t argue and follows my lead.
The dive is actually charming inside, with its retro fifties décor and twenty-four-seven breakfast menu. The crowd is popping for a weekday lunch, and with its location in the heart of downtown I take that as a sign the food will be good.
A no-nonsense waitress leads us to an empty booth near the back.
“This okay?” Her tone dares us to suggest it’s not ... and end up with spit in our meal.
“Perfect. Thanks.” Lexi slides into the seat across from me. The waitress points to where the menus are nestled between the table and a dish of creamer, sugar packs, and other condiments.
“What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of orange juice,” Lexi says and then glances at me. “And I don’t need to see the menu. I’m ready to order. If you are?”
“Yeah.” I’m surprised, since most people scan the menu before deciding on their meal.
“A stack of plain pancakes. Please,” she says.
“You want the half or the full?” our server asks without looking up from her notepad.
“Full, please.” Lexi smiles.
The waitress pauses to glance at Lexi and raise her brows. “Mmm’kay. And for you?” She nods my direction more than asks.
“Same. Except coffee for me.”
“’Kay.” She turns and leaves without a backward glance.
“I don’t know how you do that,” I say.
“What? I can eat a lot of food. Especially pancakes. Don’t judge me by my size.”
I grin. “Not that. I’m talking about ordering orange juice.”
“You don’t like OJ?” she asks as if I’m the crazy one.
“I do. But you have no idea the pulp situation. Does it have none, or extra? How can you order a glass without knowing the level of pulp?”
She laughs and at that moment our server comes back to set down our drinks. “Pancakes’ll be up shortly.”
“I take it you’re not a fan of pulp.” Lexi observes and takes a sip from her drink.
I eye her from over the brim of my mug. “That obvious?”
