Page 33 of Mother Pucker

And just as those words come out of my mouth, the significance of them dawns on me.

Rowan’s eyes glimmer. “I like the sound of that.”

“Rowan–”

He puts his finger on my mouth, halting any further words. “I have a feeling you’re going to ruin this moment with all your nonsense about rules and boundaries, and I’d like to have something in my stomach before you do that.”

As if his talk of food has been directly heard by my stomach, it makes an embarrassing groan, and both Rowan and I laugh.

“Looks like your stomach agrees,” he says, sliding his hand down my arm and grasping my fingers. “How about you sit on the couch, and I’ll bring you dinner?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why does this feel like a date you never asked me to?”

“Did you miss the last, let’s see,” he puts his index finger dramatically over his chin, pretending to think, “five timesI tried to insinuate I wanted to date you?”

I scoff. “Um,yeah, I must have! And how did youinsinuatewanting to date me?”

He lifts a finger. “One, when I wanted onlyyouto be my physical therapist.” He lifts another finger. “Two, when I sent you that vibrator you’ve been using nonstop since you met me.” I giggle, and he lifts another finger. “Three, when I asked you to come with me to California for the away games this weekend.” He lifts his pinky. “Four, when I asked you and Kai to come to my game.” He lifts his thumb. “And five, when I asked you if there was any way we could meet after the last game and compromised with a FaceTime call.”

I laugh. “Oh, is that what those were? Yourattemptsat asking me on a date?”

He nods enthusiastically like I’ve just correctly guessed aWheel of Fortunepuzzle. “Yes! They were.”

I giggle again, a strange warmth spreading around my chest, making me feel like I’m floating. When did this shift happen between us? When did he start chipping away at the walls I’ve worked so hard to build? “Mr. Rowan ‘Slick’ Parker, have you ever asked a girl out on a date before?”

“Yes! I just told you about the last five times, all of which you seemed either very oblivious to or completely against. It’s been hell on my ego, to say the least.”

I tilt my head. “Pretty sure there isn’t much that can make a dent in that ego.”

He leans forward, a vulnerable smile playing on his lips, before he whispers, “Except you.”

I throw my hands up in defeat. “I give up. You win.”

“Does that mean you’re saying yes?”

I hesitate, buying time. “I don’t make good decisions on an empty stomach, and right now, I’m famished. So, you’re going to have to feed me first.”

He tilts his head. “I’d argue you’ve made better decisions today on that empty stomach than ever before. Maybe I need to keep you hungry around me.” He winks. “Then you can just have me for dinner.”

I lay a hand on his chest. “As tempting as that sounds, there’s a salad with my name on it that I’d really like.”

A few seconds later, we’re both sitting with our meals on the couch–him with his massive burrito that looks like it could feed a small country for days, and me with my salad.

Rowan wipes his mouth after taking a bite, watching me pick out the tortilla strips. “You don’t like tortilla strips?” He leanscloser, like he’s telling me a secret. “Not gonna lie, Doc, the only thing exciting in that salad are the tortilla strips.”

I smile. “I don’t eat anything fried or processed.”

He looks appalled. “Like,ever?”

I nod self-consciously.

He lifts his burrito. “So, would you eat this burrito? There isn’t anything fried in it.” He glances at it and chuckles. “Well, except the refried beans and chicken.”

I eye said burrito tucked inside the aluminum foil wrapper, and I won’t lie, it smells delicious and looks like it tastes just as good. “That, and the flour tortilla, cheese, and the sour cream inside are high in saturated fat. Then, there’s all that rice, which has a lot of carbs.”

He smiles playfully. “And yet, you’re looking at it like you’d chase it if it started running.”

I make a face at him. “Leave me alone. I’m just hungry.”

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