Page 21 of Screwed

“You’re gorgeous,” he says.

He states it like a fact and it has my body burning with a blush.

“I love your body,” he continues and I don’t know what to say back to that.

Luckily, I’m saved by the waitress dropping off the sliders and fries. Arlo nudges the plate closer to me and I take a slider, and I take a bite.

“Oh man,” I moan and Arlo grins.

“That good?”

“Uh-huh,” I say with a nod and he takes his own bite.

“Damn, that is good.”

“Did you grow up in New York?” I ask, bringing the conversation back to his past.

“Yeah, or at least that’s where I spent most of my time growing up. I was actually born in Vermont and then we moved out to Colorado for a few years when I was young before we came back to the east coast. What about you?”

“I was born and raised here.”

“And you’re a single child?”

“Yeah, my parents barely had time for me so it probably a good thing that they didn’t have more kids. They’re retired and living in Florida now, closer to my aunts and uncles. What about yours?” I ask, volleying the conversation back to him.

“My parents passed away a few years ago. Car accident,” he says and I can see that he still misses them.

“I’m so sorry,” I say softly and he nods.

We both turn out to look over the water for a minute. It’s not awkward, more like we’re both lost in our thoughts.

The conversation turns to food and our favorite restaurants.

“Have you been to Prim + Proper? Hudson’s food is always amazing. I’m lucky that I’m friends with Lyla and get to eat so much of it,” I say as we polish off the fries.

“I haven’t been yet actually. It seemed like a date place and I never…” he trails off and I smile to myself.

“Yeah, I’ve only been because of Lyla and the girls.”

“I’ve eaten at his other place though. The one back in New York. Or one of the ones back in New York. He has like two or three there, right?”

“I think so. I remember Lyla mentioning them once.”

“It was life changing and since he’s the chef here, I imagine it’s just as good. Maybe better.”

“He’s opening a new place over here,” I tell him as our main courses are brought out.

It’s hard to find room on the table for all of the plates but we make do, laughing as I almost send one plate over the railing.

“What do you want to start with?” I ask him and he pulls the salmon closer to him, cutting it in half and adding one portion to his plate before he offers it to me.

I take a bite and it melts in my mouth.

We make our way through most of the food. The steak is my favorite and Arlo lets me have more of his half.

“Did you want to do dessert?” He asks me as they clear the plates and I stare at him with wide eyes.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” I tell him and he smiles.

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