Page 9 of Their Favorite Game

We drove for what seemed like hours, the sun setting in the sky. I had no idea where we were going, but I was excited to find out.

Finally, we pulled into a parking lot in front of a small restaurant. From the outside, I could tell this place was expensive. Like weird things on the menu, and stuff I couldn't afford. My mom had always told me to bring money on a date, never expect the man to pay. If he does great, but never depend on a man for anything.

Jake got out of the truck and quickly walked around to open my door. I stepped out and smoothed my skirt, the sweat building in my palms again. I kept my eyes on the pavement, hoping I wouldn't stumble and fall.

"Ready?" Jake asked, holding out his hand for me to take.

I nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead me into the restaurant. The hostess greeted us and showed us to our table in a cozy corner of the dimly lit dining room. The table was set with white tablecloths, candles, and a small vase of roses. Definitely way too expensive of a place for me to go.

Jake pulled out my chair, and I sat down, avoiding his gaze. I had never been to a restaurant like this before. The waiter came over to take our drink orders, and we both ordered Coke. There had been too much drinking lately.

"So, what's good here?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Jake leaned back in his chair, a playful grin on his face. "Everything."

"Oh." I opened the menu. I couldn't pronounce most of it and couldn't afford any of it.

"What's wrong?" He pulled the menu down from my face.

"Nothing." I averted my eyes and shuffled my feet.

"You can tell me," Jake said softly, reaching across the table to take my hand. "Is it the menu? Don't worry about it. We'll find something you like."

I sighed, slumping forward. "It's just that...I can't afford anything on here."

Jake's face softened. "This is a date. I'm paying. Get whatever you want."

"No, did you see these prices? You shouldn't be paying for this either." I pointed at a steak that was seventy-eight dollars.

"I know, and this place is the best restaurant within a hundred miles. And you deserve the best." He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

Sammy didn't need to put any blush on me. I was redder than a fire hydrant. My head spun as I pulled my hand back into me. The tingling of his lips against my skin lingered.

"Um, no, I can't let you do that." I scanned the menu for the cheapest item. It was a Caesar salad for fifteen dollars.

"You love my mom's pasta and meatballs, right?" Jake asked.

I nodded.

"Okay, well, she got the recipe from here. We come here for her birthday every year. She says it tastes like New York City food." He shrugged. "Anyway, she became friends with the owner, and she gave my mom the recipe."

"Really?" I squeaked. Mrs. Matthews made the best meatballs.

"Yes, so will you please let me buy you dinner?" He widened his eyes as if he was a deer in headlights.

I burst out laughing. Quickly realizing I was in a restaurant full of people, I shut my mouth. Afraid that if I opened my mouth again, that hyena noise would resurface, I nodded.

"Perfect." He waved the waitress over and ordered our food.

As we waited, a robust woman burst through the kitchen doors and made a beeline for our table. It took everything in me not to dive under the table and hide from her. She reached us and wrapped her sweaty arms around me, pulling me from my seat. I didn't know who she was or why she hugged me, but her scent of garlic and pesto was comforting.

After what must have been five awkward minutes, she plopped me back into my seat.

"Hi, I'm Gloria, and who are you?" She stuck out a chubby hand to me.

"Um, um," I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Gloria, this is Mal." Jake pointed to me. "Mal, this is the owner, Gloria."

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