Page 20 of The Road to Finding Us

She puts my lip gloss in my purse before handing it to me. “Have fun. I love you—and don’t be nervous!” She shoves me out of her room just in time for Blaine to walk up their front porch steps.

I open the door to see Blaine standing there in a dark gray button-down and jeans, and a large smile on his face. My eyes travel back up to find his hand out, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Blaine, hi! These flowers are beautiful, thank you.” I try to take the flowers from him, but he pulls me in for a hug instead.

“I figured I’d start sweeping you off your feet now.” He pulls me in even closer to him.

I have to lift my head to look up at him to make eye contact. “It really means a lot, thank you.” I start to pull away and admire the flowers, but before I can leave his grasp fully, he leaves a quick peck on my forehead.

“Can I leave these here for the night?” I ask Selma, who’s watching all of this unfold from the living room.

She gives me a nod, then heads in the direction of their small kitchen area. I follow her in, holding the flowers as she searches for a vase.

“What do we have here?” Aspen swaggers out of his room. He leans his elbow against the kitchen counter as he peers around the room, inspecting.

“Blaine and I were just on our way out.” I try to avoid looking at Aspen’s bare chest on full display.

He reaches into the bowl on top of their kitchen counter, pulling out an apple. It makes a loud crunching sound as he bites into it. Aspen chews loudly, his eyes dragging up and down my body. “Were you?” he asks in a mockingly sweet tone. His green eyes accuse.

Selma has to pry my hands away from the cellophane wrapped flowers.

My eyes narrow on him as he continues to chew as loud as a horse, not bothering to use manners. What the hell is he up to?

“Well, it was good to see you, Selma. Maverick, Aspen.” Blaine makes awkward eye contact with the three of them, holding his hand out in front of the door for me to take.

I shoot Aspen a dirty look as I exit the kitchen, meeting Blaine at the door.

“You ready?” he asks, taking my hand.

I don’t bother to look back at the people in the living room. Selma will undoubtedly text me as soon as I walk out the door, Maverick is too enthralled in the game he’s watching, and Aspen—well, Aspen can shove it where the sun don’t shine.

“Yep!” I squeak, a little too much pep in my voice.

Blaine’s hand envelops mine as we both mutter a brief goodbye. We walk out the door, heading toward his car hand in hand.

“Where to?” I question when he opens my door. I give him a big smile to show my appreciation as I step into the car.

“Can I surprise you?” he asks as I slide into the smooth leather of his interior. His hand stays propped on the door as he waits for my answer.

“Sounds good to me.” I shrug, giving him a thumbs up, which in hindsight probably wasn’t very sexy of me.

We make small talk during the beginning of the ride, but after a few minutes, it dies off into a comfortable silence.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Blaine interrupts my thoughts, nudging my hand with his.

“Nothing too interesting,” I respond quickly, not wanting to tell him I was wondering why Aspen had decided to ramp up his oddness on our way out.

The car turns into a popular spot near campus. It’s a park, but on Friday and Saturday nights, a bunch of food trucks park there. It happens to be one of my favorite places to go to, and it holds my favorite meal in the world.

“I want pancakes,” I tell Blaine, grabbing his hand and moving toward my favorite vendor. Selma, Aspen, and I always come here on the weekends. We all love the pancakes and could talk to the owner of the food truck for hours.

I’m basically pulling Blaine across the crowded area when I look back at him to make sure he doesn’t seem bothered by me taking the lead on the date. I ponder if I should’ve asked him if he even likes pancakes and if he was okay with me hijacking his dinner plans, but the grin on his face makes it appear as if he doesn’t care at all.

Let’s be honest, though. Who doesn’t like pancakes?

“I never pegged you as a breakfast-for-dinner kind of girl,” he says as we squeeze through a throng of people waiting in line at a taco truck.

“Pancakes are my love language. We come here a lot on the weekends,” I explain to him. “I also know the owner, Judas, and he’s awesome.”

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