Page 12 of Gone for You

Amber stands beside our table for a few more seconds, looking back and forth between us and then asks warily, “I almost hate to ask but, is that all?”

Liv pretends to think a moment then adds, “A bowl of fruit, too? We should probably eatsomethinghealthy, right?”

“Right,” I mumble around the cup to my mouth.

Amber’s eyes are wide as she reads back our order, which takes a crazy amount of time. “Yup! You got it!” Liv chirps.

“Ho-kaaaayyy then. I’ll get your order in.”

She walks away and I say, “Which could possibly take three hours to get all that made.”

“Shut up! I can’t help it. I love breakfast.”

“Noted.”

Liv sits up straight, pats her stomach. “Trust me, it sounds like a lot but I can handle it.”

“I’m not complaining,” I promise.

“Plus, I wore my jeans with the most stretch in ‘em,” she adds on cheekily, digging a thumb into the waistband to prove her point. “See? Theylooklike jeans but really, they’re just super comfy fake pants.”

I bark out a laugh and relax.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“Boy, that’s not vague or anything.”

I shrug. “It might be vague but there’s really nothing about you I don’t want to know. I only know you’re Owen’s sister and live in Chicago. And, besides, you ordered enough food that I figure we’ll be here a while.”

“Wow.”

“What?” I ask, head turning to the side as I take a healthy sip of coffee.

“You’re just… I’ve never had someone be so honest with me.”

I take a breath, afraid that I’m pushing it or making her uncomfortable. “Sorry if I’m coming on strong. I don’t mean to, but I don’t like to beat around the bush. No pressure, I promise. Just tell me what you want me to know about you and I’ll find out the rest later.”

She shakes her head while smiling. “Well, my real name is Olivia, which you already know, but everyone calls me Liv except for my grandparents. Sometimes my brother if he’s trying to be a cheeky asshole.”

“What about your parents?”

“Um, they have a nickname for me.”

It must be a doozy if she’s avoiding telling me. So… “Well now you’ve got to tell me. Come on. Out with it.”

“No way.”

Amber brings by our juice and places the warm cinnamon roll in front of us along with a bowl of fruit and two plates. “I figured you’d want to get started rather than it all coming out at once. And, um, I wasn’t sure if the table could hold it all.”

Translation: there’s no way on God’s green earth you two are going to eat all that food you ordered unless you make it a marathon meal rather than a sprint.

She’s probably correct.

“Thank you,” Liv says, her eyes lighting up at the size of the cinnamon roll. She doesn’t hesitate, rather diving into the side of the roll with gusto. It’s steaming and smells freaking delicious but I’m a bit afraid that if I try to take a bite I’ll end up losing a finger.

I lift my fork and hesitate before joining her. She huffs and rolls her eyes, “Go ahead, you big baby. Have some, too.”

My lips twitch. “I thought we were sharing it?”

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