Page 67 of The Fake Out Flex

"I don't regret it," I tell her. "The beach. The dancing. I'd do it all again."

"You would?"

"In a heartbeat."

Her hazel gaze meets mine. "I've been thinking about something."

"Go on."

"Something that I think maybe almost happened between us but got interrupted."

Oh. She's going there.

"Do you mean?—?"

"Your boor-gair, madam. The chef was inspired to make onion rings as your side dish. I trust this will be to your liking."

Evie drags her eyes away from me. "Yes. Thank you."

"And your boor-gair, sir. Extra bacon. Extra cheese. With fries. Enjoy."

I lean over once he disappears. "And by enjoy, he means choke on it."

"Possibly. Or he means enjoy the spit the chef flavored it with."

"That's gross, Evie."

She laughs. "It really is."

We start eating.

"Looks like we got interrupted again," I say.

She nods. "Maybe that's our thing. We get interrupted all the time, and we're left with all these questions that we then spend hours, days, weeks, months, obsessing over, dangling in our subconscious like…" She looks down at her plate. "Like onion rings."

"Like onion rings dangling in our subconscious?" I check.

She nods. "It's a little out there, but also quite a strong visual statement. Don't you think?"

I chuckle. "Sure. But let's not have interruptions and dangling onion rings be our thing, okay? Let's always clear things up so that we avoid miscommunication and know exactly where we stand, like…" I glance down at my plate. "Like a fry." I lift one up. "A fry is a fry. You always know what it is, right?"

"There is no mistaking what a fry is," she agrees.

"So let's be like fries. Like…Like…Like truth fries."

"Truth fries. I like it," she says, then raises her hand. "Okay. Problem."

"What is it?"

"In the interest of full disclosure and with all this talk of fries, now…I want fries. Don't suppose you want to share yours?"

I grin, pushing my plate toward the center of the table. "Happy to."

We munch away in silence, with Evie picking at my fries every once in a while. I'm pretty sure we're the only people in the restaurant eating with our hands, but who cares? I'm having the best time with my gir—with Evie.

"So," I begin. "Should we pick up where we left off?"

"Okay." Evie stops eating and puts her burger down on her plate. "I was going to ask you if we were about to kiss. There, I said it. Kiss."

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