Page 63 of The Alternate Captain
This is the mostawkward date I’ve ever been on. And it’s got nothing to do with Johnny.
We’re squeezed into a booth, opposite Charlotte and her date, Lyla, watching them quarrel about everything and anything. At first, I think it’s playful banter, but it heats pretty quickly. All Johnny and I can do is talk between us whilst we pretend that there isn’t a full-blown catfight happening less than a metre away.
“Shall we leave, or...?” Johnny whispers right in my ear since he’s taking up about eighty per cent of the space.
“Oh, shut up, will you? I can’t believe you’re bringing this up now.” Charlotte’s voice reaches a tone of frustration and Lyla rolls her eyes before pulling out her phone.
“I knew you’d act like this,” Lyla says, and she shifts out of the booth, storming off towards the bathrooms.
“Is everything okay, Char?” I ask.
“Obviously not, Kelly,” she snaps. But she changes her tone quickly to apologise. “I’m sorry. It’s been stressful. Lyla’sgrandmother isn’t well—which is why we’re in the city. She lives in a care home right on the outskirts.”
“Oh, that’s not good,” I say.
“Can we do anything to help?” Johnny asks.
“No, no. It’s fine. Thanks. Anyway—you two. You literally make my heart leap with excitement. I can see the honeymoon phase is still going strong.”
“It sure is,” Johnny says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
I stumble over my words. “Well, we’re doing okay.”
He leans down and kisses my cheek.
All for show, of course.
Charlotte’s phone buzzes on the table, and she’s quick to snap her attention to the screen, reading for a second before letting out a sigh of contempt.
“I’m going to check on Lyla,” she says, slipping out of the booth.
I expect Johnny’s arm to slip away, since we’re no longer being watched, but he keeps it firmly set while he checks the menu.
“What are you thinking of getting?” he asks, flicking through the pages of the menu. “The chicken looks good.”
I skim down the list, surveying the prices. “I, uh, the salad.”
“Get what you want, and I’ll square it up,” he says.
“It’s fine. I’m trying to lose a few pounds anyway,” I say.
“The heck you are. You’re perfect. Now do as you’re told and get what you want, Kelly.”
I stare at him, aghast, and I watch his face break into a smile that has my whole body buzzing.
“Do you love telling people what to do, Johnny?”
It just comes out. And a warm, flushed feeling washes over me.
Johnny’s Adam’s apple quivers as he swallows. Hard. Then he clears his throat and shifts in his seat, attention back on the menu.
“I’m only asking if you really want the salad.” He angles himself towards me and sets his eyes right on mine. “Look at me now and tell me you really want the salad. And only the salad.”
Well, crap. I can’t even keep a straight face. I laugh softly and pull the menu towards me to check it again. He leans right into me, his mouth by my ear as he lists other things he likes from the menu. Then, in a slight movement, his lips brush my neck.
“You smell really good, by the way,” he says and I shiver, inadvertently squeezing his thigh in the process. “And I’m sure you’d love for me to—”
Charlotte’s return to the table pulls us out of our whispering, and I’m giggling uncontrollably, probably set off by the giddiness I’m feeling.
