Page 76 of One Life to Loathe

He paused just on the other side of the door. “What?”

“You’re a superhero. It’s amazing to me that you’re still standing, let alone thriving given what you went through as a kid.”

He shook his head. “People make it through way worse than me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” I was firm on that. “You’re a miracle.”

He gave me an odd look.

“What?” I demanded when he didn’t immediately speak.

“Nothing. It’s just weird. I was thinking that exact word earlier when we were on the trolley. You’re my miracle.”

He didn’t mean it the way I wanted him to mean it—there was no way—and yet everything inside of me went soft at the words. “See. You’re sweet.”

“Shh.” He lifted his index finger to his lips. “Don’t let that get out. I’ll never live it down.”

“Whatever.”

The hostess was all smiles as she glanced between us. Her gaze, of course, lingered on Leo. I didn’t blame her. His hair was windswept from the trolley. His smile was bright enough to illuminate the entire restaurant. When he laughed the day got brighter.

“Two?” she asked, her eyes moving to our joined hands.

“Yes,” Leo replied, seemingly oblivious to her interest. “You have stuffed lobster, right?”

The hostess seemed thrown by the question. “Of course.”

“Just checking.” Leo’s smile was easy.

“Do you like stuffed lobster?” The hostess almost looked dreamy. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“I could take it or leave it,” Leo replied. “Sam here needs it to make her night perfect, though.” He sent me a fond look. “Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, I’m not falling for that trap.” I shook my head. “I want to see the whole menu before I order. I might find something else I want to eat.”

Leo didn’t look convinced. “Whatever.” He turned his smile back to the hostess. “Can you seat us right away?”

If I wasn’t very much mistaken, the hostess turned wistful. “Sure.” She grabbed several menus. “Just follow me.”

The ambiance wasn’t exactly romantic, but there was a candle flickering in the middle of the table.

Leo reached for the drink menu first. “What’s your poison?”

“Oh, um, something fruity.”

His forehead creased as he perused the options. “Are you sure? They have something called the Turner’s Hot and Dirty and I feel that fits your mood.”

I made a face. “I feel that fitsyourmood.” Despite that, I was intrigued. “What’s in it?”

“Tito’s vodka, olive juice, cherry pepper juice, and blue cheese stuffed olives.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, that’s what I’m getting.” He handed me the cocktail menu and watched with a great deal of interest as I looked over the offerings.

“I’m getting the raspberry gin martini,” I announced.

“Is it pink?”

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