Page 23 of Light Up The Night
Nothing.
I don't want to startle her or scare her, which seems to happen when I touch her when she's like this, but it also seemsto be the only way of getting her attention, other than putting myself in her line of sight.
I get out of the cab and go around, open her door. This finally gets her attention.
"Oh! We have arrived, I see." She sighs, sounding annoyed. "My apologies, Riley. I am not very good company at the moment, I fear."
"Sure you are," I say, holding out my hand as she unbuckles.
"I am easily absorbed in my thoughts, to the exclusion of all else," she says.
"Yeah, I'm getting that. It's all good. Doesn't bother me."
"I am not ignoring you on purpose—I hope you are aware."
I smile at her. “Yeah, I got that. Just thinkin' deep thoughts. I told you—it's all good. No worries."
I release her hand once she's on the ground, but she pauses, staring down at my hand. Then at me. "You may hold my hand, if you wish." She's blushing like crazy, not looking at me. "I misunderstood your intent earlier."
I wrap my hand around hers—I doubt she's ready for intertwined fingers just yet. "There."
She looks at our hands, then at the restaurant. "But…will the staff and patrons not form incorrect notions regarding our relationship, should we be holding hands when we enter?"
“That's long for 'get the wrong impression,' yeah?"
"Correct."
"Fuck 'em. Let 'em get the wrong impression." I frown, then. "Well, on second thought, you may have a point. It won't do your reputation around here any good to be seen holding hands with me."
"Why would that be?"
"Because I don't have the best reputation."
She hesitates, looks at our hands again, and then at me. "If I allowed myself to care what other people thought about me,Riley Crowe, I would never leave my bedroom at my parents' house in Chicago." She tightens her grip on my hand and moves for the entrance. "But more to the point, I find I quite enjoy holding your hand."
This should not thrill me, but it does. I ignore that and just focus on enjoying the moment for what it is—innocent hand-holding totally free of any deeper meaning or significance.
We enter The Alt, and the bell above the door rings, announcing our entrance. It's pretty packed in here, so our only choice of seating is a two-top near the bathrooms. We stand in line to order, and Cadence never lets go of my hand as she studies the menu—hand-written in chalk by Lainey, with cute doodles here and there.
We're next in line when Cadence turns to me, looking worried. "It is our turn next, and I cannot decide what to get. Will you choose for me, please?"
"Sure. Any foods you can't eat or don't like?"
“Yes. I dislike onions and olives. And I am not a fan of spicy foods, although this does not appear to be the sort of establishment which serves such fare.”
I grin. "You vegan, vegetarian, or gluten-free?"
"None of the above, although I limit my red meat intake, and prefer whole grains and simple, natural carbohydrates, and almost never indulge in fast carbohydrates or ultra-processed foods."
"Well, you're in the right place, in that case, ’cause Lainey and Layla don't serve any of that shit here. This is the healthiest place to eat in town. The food is damn good, too." I pick something at random from the menu. "How about the Upside Down Turkey Wonder?"
She reads the description—an open-face turkey sandwich with the fixings on the bottom, layered under turkey and melted brie. "That sounds excellent."
Layla is at the register and gives me a bright smile when she sees me. "Riley! I never see you in here." Her bright light brown eyes dancing merrily—and then fixing like lasers on Cadence's and my joined hands. "Who's your…friend?"
"Layla Cartwright, co-owner of this fine establishment, this is Cadence Creswell, MD."
Cadence lets go of my hand and extends hers to Layla. "It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Layla Cartwright. Your cafe has a very welcoming ambience."
