Page 10 of Hero on the Road
I laughed and poked at her. “Sure, Olivia. Keep telling yourself that. Let’s take a break. I’m starving.”
I grabbed her hand before I could think about it and tugged her out of her chair, my mind spinning through the best lunch places within a two-block radius. And she stood up and came with me, seeming like she agreed with the need for food.
She didn’t pull her hand out of mine.
And I didn’t feel that and grin to myself, flush with the realization that I was holding Olivia Johns’ hand… and she wasn’t taking it away from me.
* * *
I stared at the menu, trying to focus on the food choices rather than the bizarre experience of sitting here in the best burger place in town with Olivia Johns, the girl who was not only connected to Avery Dawson, in all her multiple-records-produced glory, but had a hand in my entire past.
My new singing partner just happened to be the girl I’d slept with at Christmas and been in love with since I was fourteen. And I had to keep her happy or I’d lose my chance at a record contract.
No pressure.
I had to admit, though, that things were going better than I’d expected so far. We got into that tiny studio and found that the chemistry we’d had at Christmas was still in full effect. Our guitars matched like they’d been born of the same trees or something, and when we sang together…
It was hard to tell for yourself how good something sounded until you got to hear the recording. But if the recording sounded anything like it felt, it was going to be incredibly good. Our voices matched each others’ and our pitch was perfect for the harmonies we were trying to hit. The songwriting was easier with her than it was when I was by myself, our brains moving along the same lines so quickly that it was almost like magic.
And if I wasn’t careful, I was going to fall right back into the same trap with her.
“Are you even big enough to order anything on this menu?” I asked, looking from the half-pound hamburgers to Olivia, who wasn’t as tiny as Avery but still wasn’t huge. I was betting I could pick her up with one arm and not even break a sweat.
Actually, that would be an interesting experiment. If she’d let me get close enough to try it.
Another annoyed face from Olivia. “I’m over twenty-one. That makes me old enough to do most things. Including, I’m guessing, ordering here.”
“I’m just saying,” I said, shrugging, “you’re awfully tiny to manage any of these—”
The hit came so suddenly that I didn’t see it happening beforehand and I clutched at my shoulder, more surprised than hurt. “Ouch! You hit me!”
She went back to reading her menu, looking pleased and entirely too beautiful. “Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson. I know your mom. She must have told you at some point not to say anything if you can’t say something nice.”
“I wasn’t saying anything rude!” I protested. “I was just observing that—”
Another quick blow to my shoulder, with Olivia arching one eyebrow like she was daring me to say anything else.
“Ow!” I shouted.
She tipped her head. “You don’t learn quick, do you?”
I went back to reading my menu. “I learn plenty quick. I think you just like hitting me.”
Olivia let out a very unladylike snort and shook her head. “If the situation requires it. Now what were you saying about me not being able to eat here?”
“Oh no,” I retorted. “I’m not that stupid. I don’t want to get hit again.”
She nodded. “Good boy. I think, though, that you were claiming I couldn’t eat anything from this place because it was all too big.” She slammed the menu shut and looked at me with expectation written all over her face.
“Could be,” I said, one eye on her hand to see if she was going to hit me for admitting it.
Instead, she just nodded. “Challenge accepted. You might be interested to know I’m getting a double cheeseburger. Extra bacon.”
She waved to get the waiter’s attention and ordered that exact thing, and when the food arrived, she gave me one more challenging look—like I’d be stupid enough to question her again—and then sat there and ate her entire cheeseburger while we talked about high school and who we still talked to. Parker and Avery and what they were up to, and what we thought about them hitching up with my best friends, Dev and Jackson. We laughed at the idea that Parker and Dev had actually managed to agree between them about how to run their ranch, and that Jackson had become Avery’s biggest groupie.
And by the time Olivia was finished with her cheeseburger and I’d eaten most of mine, we were laughing like we were the old friends I wished we were.
And I was reminding myself—again—that I couldn’t afford to think we were anything more than two people thrown into a situation where we had to get along for a while. I’d made the mistake of letting this girl into my life before.
