Page 45 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
It’s difficult to ignore the tingles left from his touch. It’s always been that way with him, though. When we touch it’s … electric.
We weave through the restaurant, an eclectic place with bright colors and surfboards on the wall along with unique paintings of hamburger buns painted to look like breasts and butt cheeks. Toasted buns indeed.
Spencer stops at a booth tucked into a corner out of the way. “Ladies first.” He sweeps an arm out.
I tuck the skirt of my dress against my legs and slide in, picking up the waiting menu while Spencer settles across from me.
“What’s good here?” I ask before opening the menu.
“The burgers,” he replies, deadpan.
I narrow my eyes in speculation and open the menu to find that that’s all they offer. “Same old, Spencer.” I try not to crack a smile, but fail miserably. “Give me a real answer.”
“The Hawaiian. You’ll regret it if you don’t get it.”
“Hmm,” I hum, perusing the menu in search of that one.
A throat clears and I look over to find a smiling, bubbly waitress. Her blond hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail and her cheeks flush as she bats her eyes at Spencer. She looks young, maybe eighteen or nineteen at the most. I can’t help but laugh to myself for thinking she’s young, becauseI’myoung, only a few years older than her, but becoming a mom made me grow up fast. At my chuckle she gives me a fleeting glance before her attention returns to Spencer.
“Hi.” Her voice is breathy—not in a sultry or sexy way, but like she’s nervous. “I love you on Hidden Nights,” she blurts out, mentioning the teen-geared sexy drama Spencer landed the leading role on a few years ago. “Sorry.” She shakes her head, biting her lip. “That’s so unprofessional of me. I’m Katie and I’ll be your waitress this evening—afternoon.” Her once pink cheeks are bright now. “What—uh…”—her eyes shift to me, and she gives me a sheepish smile— “can I get you guys?” She clears her throat. “To drink. What can I get you guys to drink? Any appetizers? You know what, I’ll bring some onion rings on the house because I’m butchering this. Wait, are you allowed to eat onion rings? I’m sure you have to be on a strict diet and I here I am offering you onion rings of all things.” She smacks her hand against her forehead as both Spencer and I stare at her.
I don’t know about him, but I’m wondering how she spewed all of that without a single breath in between.
Spencer smiles at her, more than used to this kind of reaction. “Hi, Katie. Nice to meet you. I’ll have a water and she’ll have one too with lemon. Onion rings sound lovely. How about an order of mozzarella sticks, too?”
“Y-Yeah,” she stutters. “I can do that.”
She turns and heads off to put that order in. I press my lips together, trying not to laugh.
“What?” He smiles and moves slightly closer. “You can say it.”
I cock my head to the side, and whisper, “You render women senseless everywhere you go. It’s quite remarkable. A real talent you have there.”
His eyes lower. “Not you, though.” He sounds slightly disgruntled by that fact.
“Not me?” I repeat, incredulous. I let out a little laugh. “You got me pregnant. I think you can lump me in with the rest.”
Even though we’re joking, his blue eyes grow serious. “Trust me, you’re nothing like the rest. You never have been.” He scoops up the saltshaker and looks it over before putting it back. It’s classic Spencer—when he’s uncomfortable he starts to fiddle.
I tilt my head slightly, playing with the necklace at my throat—oh, God maybe I’m a nervous fiddler too. “What do you mean?”
He cocks his head to the side. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Here are your drinks.” The waitress sets them down. “Your appetizers will be ready in a few minutes. Have you decided on your meal?” She appears composed now, though her cheeks remain slightly flushed and there is a slight tremor in her hands.
“Are you getting the Hawaiian?” He plays with the corner of the menu lying flat on the table in front of him. I nod. “Sweet potato fries okay with you?” Another nod. Shooting a kind smile at the waitress he says, “Two Hawaiian burgers and sweet potato fries with both.”
She scribbles on her pad. “I’ll put that in for you and check on your appetizers.” She starts to turn to leave but swings back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I know this isn’t professional of me, but I’m such a fan and I’d really love to get a picture with you. If that’s okay.”
“Sure”—he begins, and she reaches for her phone— “after we’re done with lunch.” He wiggles his finger between us.
Her face goes from pink to red. “Oh, right. Of course. Thank you.”
She scurries off, back to the kitchen I assume, and I hope in her excitement she doesn’t forget to put our order in.
Spencer switches our glasses so I have the lemon water I ordered and he has the plain one. I squeeze the lemon juice into the water and lay the rind aside.
“I can’t believe you still have to have some kind of fruit or flavor in your water.”
