Page 73 of Danger

“Hungry?” he asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

I smile. “Always.”

“Watching me must build up one hell of an appetite.”

I act shocked. “I wasn’t watching you.”

He stares at me for a moment before returning his focus on the highway. “You were watching.” He takes the next exit.

“I was just wondering what you were thinking about.”

He opens his mouth slowly, like he’s about to tell me a story. “Nothing. Just enjoying the open road.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He pulls into a small diner’s parking lot. “Well, believe it sweetheart. Now, let’s go get some food.”

A man doesn’t look that lost in thought thinking about nothing. I wish I could know what he thinks about. What’s going on inside that gorgeous head of his.

We enter the diner and are seated at a small booth. Danger slides in, and opens up his menu.

“What’s wrong?” he says once I’ve sat down but haven’t picked up the menu yet.

“Nothing.”

He sets his menu down. “Oh, I see what this is.”

I smile. “What, what is?” I play innocent.

“You want to know what I was thinking about.” He laughs.

“No, it’s ok. You were thinking about nothing. Which I’m beginning to believe men really do think about nothing.”

“What do you mean?” He raises a brow.

We’re interrupted for like two minutes so we can order and when the waitress leaves I smile. “I mean, women can’t possibly think about nothing. We constantly have like twenty thoughts going on around in our heads. We have front thoughts, back thoughts, middle thoughts.”

He stares at me like I’m explaining the world’s hardest math problem. “Back thoughts?”

“Yeah, you know. The thoughts we’re mulling over at any given time. They’re not front and center like the thoughts of actually existing and moving throughout our day. Or what we’re seeing. Because we think about everything we see. And then we have the middle thoughts. The things we’re thinking about with the people around us. The situations we’re in.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It sounds exhausting to not think about anything.”

Danger picks up his coffee and takes a sip before saying, “Well, on the road I wasn’t really thinking about anything specific. I definitely didn’t have multilayered thoughts. I was just thinking how nice it was.”

“How nice what was?”

“Driving with you by my side.”

This fills me up with emotion, bubbling out through a smile. “I know.”

“I’m kind of dreading when this will all be over.”

I don’t say anything, because a part of me wants to ask why we need it to end at all. But, I don’t know how he feels about it. “Yeah.”

“I promise I won’t let the media turn this around on you.”

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