Page 32 of Hate to Love You

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Absolutely not!”

I slant a questioning look her way, but she remains silent. “Fine, where do you want to go? I’ve got a few hours between classes. Want to head back to my place?”

That suggestion leaves her glaring.

“I didn’t mean for that.” I chuckle. Unable to help myself, I tease, “Although I’m not opposed to the idea if you’re interested.”

“We are not going back to your place,” she says firmly.

“Fine. Tell me where you want to go.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me along. “Off campus. I need to get out of here. Now. Before anymore weirdness can happen.”

I have no idea what that means.

“All right. I’ve got my truck. Why don’t we head over to Maples on Main? We can grab an early lunch.” People check us out as we move through the crowd. I’m used to the attention, but I get the feeling that Natalie is uncomfortable with it.

“Fine.”

Twenty minutes later, we slide into a booth across from each other. Bev, one of the waitresses who normally waits on me, stops by the table with menus and two glasses of water.

“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a grin. “Want me to set you up with the usual?”

Natalie cocks a dark brow at me.

This is my home away from home. I wink at Bev. “They take good care of me here.”

Bev chuckles. She’s a grandmotherly type of woman who I’ve gotten to know over the years. “You got that right. He and a few guys from the team stop in after practice. A hungrier bunch, I’ve never seen.”

“That’s because you got the best meatloaf in town.”

“Lou makes it fresh every day with you in mind.”

I hand her the menu. “I wasn’t planning on the meatloaf for lunch, but you talked me into it.”

A hearty laugh tumbles from her lips. “You got it.” She turns expectantly to Natalie. “What about you, hon? What’ll you have?”

Natalie skims the menu and says, “Just a plate of fries, please.”

“Easy enough.” She writes our orders down on a small pad of paper and sticks the pencil behind her ear. “Should be up in ten.”

“Can we get two Cokes, please?” I glance at Natalie and ask, “Or did you want Diet?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head. “The real McCoy is fine.”

Now here’s a girl after my own heart.

“Coming right up,” Bev says and walks away.

As I sit back against the bench, my gaze is drawn to Natalie. But that’s nothing new. I’ve felt the pull for years. Now that it’s the two of us, I’m not sure what to say or how to start this conversation. Somehow, I need to convince her that this fake relationship is a beneficial arrangement for both of us. Sure, I know exactly how it benefits me. What I need to figure out is what I bring to the table.

“I want to apologize for what happened with Kimmie. I had no idea she would go off the rails like that.” Although deep down, I suspected as much.

“It’s fine.” Natalie shakes her head and amends her statement. “Weird, but fine.” Her eyes dart around the half-empty restaurant before settling on mine again.

“Look, Brody—” she begins.

“Uh-oh, I know it’s serious when you opt for my first name.”

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