Page 41 of The Hookup Situation
“I think your plan is working,” she says, then seems to catch herself. “I mean, people are definitely buying that we’re together.”
“That’s the point.”
She steers us across the street so we don’t pass the windows of Cozy Coffee. “Come on. We’re going to Cozy Diner. Best food in town, and I need real food after that workout.”
“Is there a reason why you’re avoiding the coffee shop?” I ask.
“Blaire will interrogate me for an hour if we show up sweaty from couples yoga. Plus, the diner has the best pancakes in Colorado.”
When we enter Cozy Diner, it’s exactly what I expect. It has red vinyl booths, a black-and-white checkered floor, and walls covered in vintage signs. It smells like bacon and strong coffee. Heads turn to watch us.
“Julie!” an older woman with silver hair piled high calls out from behind the counter. “Some booths by the window are open, honey. Any one you want.”
“Thanks, Marge!”
We slide into the booth, facing each other, the morning sun streaming through the windows. The menus are laminated andsticky, with pictures of enormous portions that would horrify my nutritionist back in Manhattan.
“Everything here is amazing.” Julie doesn’t even glance at her menu. “But the blueberry pancakes are life-changing.”
“Sold.”
Marge appears with a coffeepot, filling two mugs without asking. “Who’s this handsome stranger?”
“This is Nick, myboyfriend.” The word rolls off Julie’s tongue so easily now.
“Well, aren’t you two adorable together?” Marge winks at us. “First meal’s on the house for new couples. It’s tradition.”
“Marge, no—” Julie starts.
“Don’t argue with me, young lady. I’ve known you since you were stealing candy from the pie counter.”
“I never stole anything!”
“Sure, honey.” Marge winks at me. “She was a little thief. Luckily, she turned out so well. What’ll you have?”
We order blueberry pancakes, extra bacon for me, and fruit salad for Julie.
As Marge walks away, Julie shakes her head.
“She tells everyone I was a childhood criminal.”
“Were you?”
She peeks up at me. “Maybe once. It was a Snickers bar, and I was seven.”
“Hardened criminal.”
“Thehardest.”
Our food arrives so fast that I barely had a chance to drink half of my coffee. The pancakes are the size of dinner plates, and we drown them in syrup and butter. Julie immediately steals a piece of my bacon.
“Boundaries,” I say, moving my plate away.
“What’s yours is mine. Dating rules.”
“I don’t remember that in my PowerPoint.”
“Slide nine, section two. Look it up.”
