“You have that look on your face again,” Arizona remarks, using her fingers to swish a piece of pancake through the excess syrup on her plate. “You know, the one you had after he asked for your number. What’d he do now? Propose?” She laughs at her own joke.
“He’s coming here,” I say flatly. “They all are.”
Now even Arizona’s gaping. “Now?”
“Yes. He said to make room for five more,” I inform her. Hearing it out loud in my own voice helps me too. It doesn’t sound near as crazy when I say it versus when he said it.
She crinkles her brow. “Five? There’s only four of them in the band.”
“Yes, I can count too. I’m guessing their driver? I don’t know. This falls under the rock star hypotheticals we weren’t going to touch, remember?”
She nods, eyeing our extra-large round booth in the back corner of the dining room. “I guess our desire for space and privacy backfired? Or it worked out even better than planned? I can’t really tell with this one.”
“Right now, I’m just glad we don’t have to switch tables.” We’ve been here over an hour. I’m settled in. It feels like our booth. Our territory. And I like the feeling of that. “We just have to establish how many pancakes we’re claiming we’ve already eaten and then politely ask Jake, our server, not to tell everyone we’re big, pancake-gorging liars.”
Arizona picks up another pancake from her stack and rips it in half, preparing to start up with the syrup soaking again. “Have you noticed you only panic after you’re no longer talking to the man? Like, you were totally chill on the phone. I had to keep reminding myself who you were talking to because you sounded like you were chatting it up with someone you’ve known forever.”
I have noticed that. I just haven’t made sense of it yet. “I can’t explain it. When I’m with him or talking to him...it’s just him. But then as soon as he’s gone, in my brain, he morphs right back intoKnox Marley, sexiest rock star alive.”
“Got it.” She nods, stuffing sticky pancake into her mouth. “The normal guy versus the rock star is still a work in progress.”She grins, still chewing. “At least you’re only embarrassing yourself when you’re with me.”
“Silver lining.” I grin back. Then I catch Jake passing through and wave. “Have a sec?”
He comes over, smiling. He’s young, probably not even twenty-one yet, with bright red hair and freckles for days. Even if he wasn’t the sweetest kid I’ve crossed paths with in a while, I’d wanna stuff him in my pocket and take him home. Freckles do that to me. I think because my own kid is covered in them too. Just brings out my mama side.
“Ready for more pancakes?” he asks, already hip to our appetite.
“Actually, we’re good for now,” I explain, smiling up at him. “But we just found out we have some friends joining us, so would it be possible to clear the evidence...and by that, I mean plates. We’ll probably need the space.”
“And one of our friends is hot and she doesn’t want him to know how many pancakes she can eat in one night,” Arizona adds, smirking.
“I just think that’s something you ease people into.”
“Probably a good idea,” Jake agrees with me. “I’ve been working here for over a year, and I’ve seen people eat a lot of pancakes, but even I got a little frazzled the first three times I came to check on you guys only to find empty plates where two minutes earlier I’d left small stacks of pancakes.” Then he seems to rethink his candidness, because he adds a rushed, “No offense.”
“Oh, sweet, youthful boy,” Arizona muses. “We’re women in our forties. We’ve had time to learn all there is to know about ourselves, confront all of our patriarchal induced insecurities and no longer give a shit what anyone else thinks about any of it. It’s all good. We eat a lot of pancakes. We know it.”
“She’s right,” I follow up what she said. “Except this once. Where I care a little what this one man thinks.” Then I roll my eyes at my own issues. “You know what, never mind. I mean, yes, please clear the plates, but then go ahead and keep the pancakes coming.” I look at Arizona and shrug. “The man deserves to know what he’s getting himself into.”
“That’s the spirit.” Arizona grins. “And perfect timing, because I do believe I see him coming toward us.” Before I can fully register what she’s said, she starts waving enthusiastically at someone behind me.
Jake and I turn our heads at the same time.
“Is that?” Jake wheezes, clearly having recognized Knox as he leads his party of five through the nearly empty Denny’s dining room.
“Yep.” I nod, eyes stuck on the scene before me. In all my life, I can’t think of another time a man this beautiful looked this pleased to be walking toward me.
“Wow,” I hear Jake’s low mumble from my side.
Jake promptly has my attention again. “Interesting. He has the same effect on men,” I observe, amused by the way Jake’s cheeks turn instantly red and his eyes get about twice as big as before. Knox must be nearly to the table now because Jake can’t seem to decide whether to bolt or stay put. And whether to hold onto his tray or drop it. It’s nearly slipped from his fumbling fingers at least three times since I’ve been watching.
I notice Arizona is doing more than just waving now, she’s saying words. Which can only mean one thing.
Knox has reached the table.
And I haven’t had a chance to determine the appropriate greeting.
Do I stand or do I stay seated?
