A look of mirth crossed his face. “If only you knew.”
“So, tell me. I’m yours for the night.”
He winked. “Tell me your secret, and I’ll tell you mine.”
I scratched my head, pretending to look innocent. “Evading each other’s questions would be more fun over some food and wine.”
I started for the door, but he caught me in his arm. “I’m sorry for falling asleep the other night. I didn’t mean to shut you out like that.”
“I’m sorry I left without leaving a note, but I didn’t want to snoop around looking for stationery.”
“When I woke up and you were gone, I thought maybe I’d dreamed the whole thing.”
“I’m real.”
“You sure are.” He opened the door to DeNirro’s, letting the aroma of hot bread and meat sauce waft out in the evening air.
We went in and got seated at a cute table for two at the back, on the raised platform that also doubled as a stage on nights they had live music.
“This is new,” I said, running my hand over the tablecloth. DeNirro’s was known for its classic red-checked tablecloths, but this table and the others were covered in mustard-hued cloths. I looked around, picking up on other changed details. The taxidermy-stuffed stag’s head was no longer over the stone fireplace, and had been replaced by a wreath of branches.
“I was just in here last week,” I said, feeling uneasy. “They’ve done a whole redecoration thing since then.”
“For the movie. This is one of our shooting locations. The owner liked the changes the location manager requested, and decided to implement them permanently.”
A waitress came up to drop off menus and take our drink order.
I asked her, “Are the red-checked tablecloths gone forever? Can they come out for special occasions, if we call ahead?”
“I think we have a few that we kept.” She blinked at me, tilting her head to the side. “Petra? Peaches Monroe?”
“Chantalle Hart?”
She smiled, the dimples in her cheeks appearing. Had I not seen her in the five years since graduation, and did she really look even more gorgeous than ever, with her perfect tan, big brown eyes, and silky auburn hair? I still had mixed feelings about her, feelings you might describe as a girl crush. She was just one of those girls everybody likes.
“It’s me,” she said, pressing her fingertips to her eyelashes, the way I’d seen her fuss with her lashes a thousand times back in school. “You probably didn’t recognize me because my eyes are puffy. Don’t worry, I’m not sick. I had mono last year and I’m over it, Doctor says.” She sniffed, looking pitiful. “Just been cryin’ over a guy. An older man.”
“So, you live here? Back in the Beav?”
“Since last month, yeah. Didn’t Golden tell you?”
I glanced over to Dalton, who wasn’t paying any attention at all, his gaze down on the menu in his hands. What a guy! Chantalle was a very pretty girl, and it just proved how clever Dalton was that he’d found somewhere smarter for his eyeballs to point.
“We’ll hang out sometime,” I said. “I’m renting a house with Shayla, up on Lurch Street. We Lurchers are a nice bunch.”
Her pretty brown eyes widened, a huge smile spreading across her face. Now I could see the puffiness, the bags under her otherwise-lovely eyes.
She said, “We can invite Golden, and get the whole gang back together!”
Ugh, Golden. Also known as Little Miss Guess What. Everything was a big production, a big secret with an elaborate teaser campaign. Whenever you finally found out the big news, it was wildly disproportionate to the amount of fuss Golden put into it.
“Sounds great,” I lied.
“For the record, I just want you to know that I was against the whole Least Fun category.”
Dalton looked up from his menu, intrigued. “Who’s-a-say-what now?”
“In high school, Peaches was voted Least Fun,” Chantalle said, sucking in her cheeks and deepening her dimples. “But there were a lot worse things people could be voted.”
“Yeah, but Chantalle, you were voted Biggest Dimples.”
“Exactly!”
I shook my head and opened my menu.
Wow. If you don’t move out of your hometown, you never really leave high school, do you?
“Did you hear Adrian Storm is back in town?” she asked, not taking a hint.
“Yes, apparently he’s flat broke and living with his parents. Tragic. Utterly broke.”
Just because I didn’t want him didn’t mean I wouldn’t sabotage his chances with Chantalle, just for old times’ sake.
“That’s too bad,” she said, jiggling and standing on one foot, kicking the other up behind her. Double-wow. I’d completely forgotten about that kick she did. Why didn’t I have a signature move? I had to work on that.
She asked us if we wanted to start with some wine, and Dalton chose something from the menu. I batted my eyelashes and nodded at his excellent choice.
After Chantalle walked away, I said, “Remind me I’m a grown-up now. I don’t care what other people think of me.”
“Grown-ups still care.”
I shook my fist in mock rage. “My parents lied!”
He pursed his lips. “All parents lie. The good ones tell comforting lies.”
“Dark. Next you’ll be quoting Nietzsche.”
“I don’t know who that is. I’m an actor. A meat puppet.” He gave me a sly grin.
“I can’t wait to lend you some great books.”
“I can’t wait to undress you. I can see your ni**les through that shirt.”
I fanned my face. If my nips hadn't been hard yet, they certainly were now.
He continued, “I’m going to peel your clothes off and lick your br**sts like ice cream.”
I took a sip of ice water, then replied, “I’m going to peel your shirt off and treat your ni**les like they’re Skittles. And I love to suck on Skittles. I can suck them all night.”
“I’m going to use my mouth on your belly button like it’s a single-serve pudding snack and I don’t have a spoon.”
I leaned across the table and whispered something almost too filthy to repeat. “Forget the belly button and try the pu**y. It’s today’s special.”
He raised his eyebrows and leaned back, arms crossed, considering. “Sold on the special,” he said, a wicked smile crossing his gorgeous lips.