His brows arched. “Didn’t you just get back from a dinner date?”

She smirked. “I did, but he took me to this really nice tapas place. Everything was one bite so, quantity wise, not so filling. Plus, I was nervous because—first dates—so I barely ate. I was going to pick up something on the way home. I could literally bury my face in a plate of fries right now.”

Beckham chuckled, some of the humor coming back into his eyes. “Poor Will. Tried to impress you and left you starving.”

“Don’t you dare say anything. The one bites were delicious.” She pinched her fingers together. “Just teeny tiny.”

He laughed again. “All right, well then I’ll happily take you up on the burger. Can I leave my backpack in your car?”

“Yep.” She climbed out of the car and took his bag from him, tossed it in her back seat, and then grabbed her purse.

He cocked his head toward the exit to the street. “Come on. Let’s find you something more substantial.Can’t have you wasting away, Eli.”

They headed out side by side, but when they got to the street and the green Walk sign started to blink, he grabbed her hand so they could hurry across. He didn’t let go when they reached the other side.

She tried to ignore how that simple handhold felt more intense than her entire date night had.

Freaking hell.She wanted to pull that part of her psyche aside and give it a good talking-to. She could not,would not, develop a crush on an unavailable man, a dude who’d made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t seeking something romantic. She was smarter than that.Shewas the person who counseledother peoplenot to do those kinds of self-destructive things.

She slipped her hand out of his and balled it into a fist.