Page 12 of Against the Clock

“Oh, thanks,” I manage. His hand is warm and strong, and his touch is electric. I try not to gape at him, wondering if this… attraction is one-sided.

Does he feel it too?

I gingerly step out of the truck, wobbling slightly on the gravel parking lot.

A bell on the door jingles as he holds it open for me, revealing a very small, very normal looking deli. There’s no line, no tables, nothing but the counter full of meats and cheeses. The guy at the counter looks like he stepped straight off of a Sopranos set, and when he greets us, he sounds like it, too.

“What’ll it be?” he booms, his Jersey accent so thick that it takes me a second to recover.

“Cheesesteak with hot peppers and Whiz for me,” Daniel says confidently.

I stare at the chalkboard menu behind the guy, his gold chain glittering in the overhead lights.

“Listen, lady, we’re good at hoagies. We’re good at steaks, like what your…” His face scrunches up in surprise, his black and silver eyebrows hitting his receding hairline. “You’re not just her boyfriend. Holy shit, Frank, come ‘ere! Look who it is.”

A younger man, a smaller replica of the one at the counter, appears, his eyes round as saucers. “Daniel fucking Harrison! No shit! You getting a cheesesteak with Whiz? Holy shit!”

“The pork rolls with long hots are real good too, Daniel’s girlfriend,” the man behind the counter tells me confidently.

“Oh, I’m not his—” I start, but the younger guy interrupts me.

“Listen, a friend of Daniel fucking Harrison is a friend of ours. Girlfriend or not, you should get the pork and long hots.” His nose scrunches. “Do you like spice?”

Daniel looks like he’s holding in a laugh, and I’m too bewildered with the enthusiastic response over our sandwich orders to do more than watch the duo behind the counter.

“Yeah, I like spice.”

“Oh shit, Daniel fucking Harrison!” he says again, shaking his head. “Your girl can handle the heat! Love to see it, love to see it.” He takes a phone from his pocket, and before either of us can react, he snaps a picture of the two of us. “My wife’s not gonna believe it unless I show her photo evidence, you know.”

“Don’t be a jackass, Dom,” the older guy chides. “Can’t you see my guy is out on a date? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Sorry about him. You want the pork and long hots?”

“Sure,” I say.

Next to me, Daniel’s shoulders are shaking slightly, and when I glance up at him, he’s biting his cheeks. Something about it sets me off and I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle my own laugh.

“I’m gonna throw in some Utz chips for you two, too. Weren’t you here a month or two ago with the Matthews brothers?”

Daniel nods. “Yeah, and I had to bring her down here for the best cheesesteak I’ve ever had. Couldn’t think of a better way to impress my future girlfriend.”

I blink, trying to process that statement. His future girlfriend? No. He’s just schmoozing with this guy. No dude I’ve ever dated has bothered to try and lock it down on a first night out. That’s just weird.

The man slams his hand on the counter, beaming at Daniel. “Now that’s how you give a man a compliment! Wait till I tell my kids that. They’re always going on about Pat’s downtown, and I say, no, the secret to a good steak is in the—” He raises his eyebrows again, then mimes zipping his lips and locking them tight. “You know what? You can’t get trade secrets out of me, no sir. The Beavers gonna win this next game?”

“Sure hope so.” He grins at the guy, but there’s a slight edge to it now, an edge that says he doesn’t want to talk about football.

Weird. Even now, my dad wants to talk about football every waking moment, despite it taking nearly everything from him.

The man behind the counter rattles off the price for our meal, thankfully distracting me from that line of thinking.

“I can pay,” I say, and am glad he didn’t try to take me somewhere where prices weren’t even on the menu. My bank card can definitely handle a nine-dollar pork sandwich.

“My treat.” Daniel pulls out his wallet. “You can get the next date, if you want.”

Next date? I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know what to think about any of this, other than I’m attracted to Daniel like crazy, and that I know the only way all this charm he’s expending on me plays out is with me waiting for a text that will never come.

My phone vibrates in my purse and I pull it out, a text from my best friend Cameron lighting up the screen.

Leslie said a certain QB just kidnapped you from work

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