I sat in my chair at Raimundo's and watched Jared over top the menu. Ever since we were ushered to our table, he had been scanning the room -sizing it up.
Probably comparing it to all of the fancy restaurants and cool hangouts he frequented in the city.
I glanced around and tried to see what he was seeing as if for the first time.
The white tablecloths. The dark walls. The votive candles flickering on the table. Was it as elegant to him as it was to me? Or was it all so "five minutes ago?"
"So? What do you think?" I asked him, closing my menu and setting it aside.
"It's nice," he said with a thoughtful frown."
"Not what you're used to, though. Right?" I asked.
"Oh no. I mean, there are millions of places like this in the city," he said.
The upstate girl in me immediately took this as an insult.
Raimndo's was the nicest restaurant we had for miles, but to him it was a dime to a million.
I took a deep breath and told myself to chill. After all, he wasn't trying to be critical. He was just from a whole different world.
"The food does smell amazing," he said, taking a deep breath and smiling.
Okay, he was forgiven. And, damn, did he look good by candlelight.
The waiter came over and took our order -chicken parmigiana for me and mussels marinara for Jared with an antipasto appetizer- and then we fell into an awkward silence.
He looked at me. I smiled and quickly glanced away.
I looked at him. He cleared his throat and stared at his water glass, running his fingers up and down its sides to clear the condensation.
Hushed conversations and light laughter continued all around us and I felt like it was mocking me. Everyone else had something to talk about.
Why not us?
Alright, just say something, I willed myself. This is Jared Kent. There is probably a zillion and one things you could ask him.
"So, what would you do right now if you were in the city?" I asked him, leaning my elbows on the table. If there was one thing I even knew about boys, it was that they LOVED to talk about themselves.
Jared sat up a little straighter. "What would I be doing...?" he said, narrowing his eyes and rubbing his hands together. "Actually, my night probably wouldn't get started for at least another hour."
"Really? You guys eat late, huh?" I said.
"Yeah. Me and my friends would probably hit one of the restaurants on the East Side and have some food. Hang out for a while if there's a game on or if there's a scene," he said, clearly warming to his subject. "Then we'd probably-"
"I'm sorry. Go back for a sec. What qualifies as a 'scene'?"
"Oh, you know, it depends on whether there are any hot wo-"
Jared looked at me and flushed. I flushed right back.
"Not that I pick up a lot of women or anything," Jared said quickly. "I don't. Not like my friends do. But having girls with you makes it easier to get into clubs." He cleared his throat again, looking sheepish.
I laughed. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. You, Jared Kent, have trouble getting into clubs?"
He bit his bottom lip. "No, actually. We're on VIP lists pretty much everywhere." He leaned forward, forearms on the table and laid some serious puppy dog eyes on me. "Listen, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I'm not a womanizer or something. My friends and I just like to have fun."
My heart skipped a beat at the way he was looking into my eyes. Like he truly needed to make me understand -to win me over.
"Why is it so important to you that I don't get the wrong idea?" I asked.
He blinked and looked down at the table. The moment was broken but my skin still sizzled.
"I don't know. It just is."
"So that's what you do for fun on a Tuesday night? Go out and get trashed with your friends and a bunch of random women?" I joked.
"See! I knew you were going to get the wrong idea," he said, lifting a hand and slumping back. "I mean, it's not like there's anything better to do."
"What?!" I blurted out so loud that people at all surrounding tables fell quiet and gaped at me.
But, hey, I was that surprised.
"It's New York City," I said lowering my voice. "You've got museums and Broadway shows and off-Broadway plays and music halls and Jazz Clubs and who else knows? I would kill to have that many options."
"Spoken like a true tourist," Jared said teasingly.
"I'm just saying. You don't know boredom until you've lived in Lake Logan your whole life." I told him.
Jared raised his eyebrows. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Little Miss Lake Logan has problems with her town? The girl who almost tore my head off for suggesting that life here might not be all that interesting? What happened?"
Oops. Snagged.
I squirmed in my seat, embarrassed. "Look, I can mock the place all I want. I live here. It's when you invaders make these snap judgements about us that everyone thinks-"
"Invaders?" Jared said.
My jaw dropped slightly. What was wrong with me tonight?
A Lake Loganer never called a summer local an invader to his face.
Not unless she was itching for a fist fight.
Not that I thought Jared would deck me or something, but I knew he would probably be offended. Plus, it was like I had betrayed my people -let one of the outsiders in on our special lingo.
"What?" I said, trying to play stupid.
"What's an invader?" he asked, intrigued.
"Nothing. Forget it. It's just a joke," I said.
The waiter pushed through the kitchen door with a plate full of meat, cheese, and veggies and placed it on our table. "Ooooh! That looks good!" I said, hoping to change the subject.
"Gracie, come on. What's an invader?" he said. "Tell me. I know how to keep a secret."
It was always people who claimed they could keep a secret who ended up blabbing everything all over the place.
I took a deep breath and picked up a piece of cheese. Clearly, Jared was not going to let this drop.
Who could blame him? If someone had called me something like that I would want to know why.
"All right, fine," I said, swallowing hard. "It's what we call the summer locals. 'Invaders.' I think it came from that old video game Space Invaders? Somebody started it back in the 80's or something and eventually it just got shortened to invaders. You know, 'cuz you guys come up here every summer and invade our space."
Jared stared at me for a second and I was positive he was going to get up and storm right out, offended we had a generalizing nickname for him and his friends. Instead, he smiled real wide.
"That's pretty good," he said, popping an olive into his mouth. "I like it. Invaders.I have to tell my mom that."
I nibbled on my cheese, relieved. "She might already know about it," I said. "After all, she did still live here in the late 90's, right?"
Jared considered this for a second. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's still so weird to think of my mom living here. She was born to live in the city."
"Well, she is one of the few people who got out of here and stayed out," I said with a sigh.
"Envious, are we?" Jared asked, taking a bite of a prosciutto.
I took a sip of my water, stalling.
Apparently, Jared had already figured out how to read me. Was I that transparent or was he just that good?
"Don't get me wrong. I love this town, but I am looking forward to getting out of here for a while. You have no idea how freeing it would be to walk down the street without someone stopping me to ask how my history test went, or whether one of our horses had her foal yet. I mean, everyone knows everything."
"They can't know everything," Jared said.
"Tomorrow, walk around town and ask any person you see how long it took for me to get my braces off. Trust me. They know," I told him.
"You had braces?" Jared asked. "Nah. I don't believe that."
"Why?"
"Your smile is perfect."
I grinned automatically, then slapped my hand over my mouth in case he thought I was fishing for compliments.
"That is kinda the point of braces," I said through my fingers.
"Good point, but it is! Seriously. Let me see," Jared said, reaching over to pull my hand down.
When our fingers hit the table, he held my hand there, pressing it against the tablecloth.
My pulse went berserk.
Was he holding my hand? Was he actually holding my hand?
"Yeah," he said, staring at my out of control smile. "Perfect."
"Well after three and a half years in those things, it better be," I said.
Some how I managed to look him in the eye.It took pretty much every ounce of will power and courage I had in my body, but I did it.
His smile set shivers down my spine.
I never wanted to stop holding his hand. I never wanted him to stop looking at me that way.
I was in big trouble.
* * * *
AHHHHH!!!!
Y'all have no idea how happy I was writing that chapter.
It's literally my favorite one I've written so far!!! I hope it was everything y'all were hoping for.
Btw, I have no idea what it's like in New York. Literally, I'm from a small town in south Alabama. Literally nowhere near NYC, so I guessed on half of the stuff I wrote about it. But I do think that most of that is common knowledge of the area.
Next chapter will be a bit longer than usual. I think you will like what info y'all get about Susan Kent!!!
I hope you all had an amazing day!!!
Much love, Kylie