hømetøwn

• : / six / : •

He pulled the car to a stop. Sunlight filtered through the windshield and dripped onto our laps, forming flickering golden pools. I studied them as I tried to find something to say.

  Finally, I came up with something.

  "Why're we parked here?"

He nodded to the building. "Is this an okay restaurant?"

"It's all right," I said. "A bit prestigious for my taste."

"So it's nice. Fancy."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Excellent." He clicked a button and the locks on the doors popped up. He pulled out the car keys and swung them around his index finger. "Shall we?"

"I - what? Why here?"

He wiggled his eyebrows as though the answer was obvious. "Chloe Lake Burnside."

"I will cut you."

"Miss Chloe Lake Burnside, you have been acquainted with the incredible Casual, Post-Amazing-Concert, Driving-In-The-Dark Brendon. However, you have yet to meet the even more incredible Fancy Dinner Brendon."

I bit back a laugh. "Why're you talking like that?"

"Hey! You're allowed to use fancy words but I'm not?"

"Oh, give me a break."

"Prestigious. You used the word prestigious not two seconds ago. That's a fancy word. I'm definitely getting a sense of irony here."

"Whatever," I said, but it was hard not to smile. "So, what, you want to go eat at a fancy restaurant?"

"I would be delighted," he said, in that same deep, sarcastically prestigious voice.

"All right then. But I'm not paying. I'm broke as hell."

"I wasn't going to make you pay anyway." He opened the car door and stepped out. I started to open my door but he yelled from outside the car, "NO, STAY THERE." He ran around the car to my side and opened the door for me. He shot me a goofy grin and bowed. "Right this way, m'lady."

"Oh my god, stop," I said, closing the door. But I was smiling as I looped my arm around his elbow.

The hostess was tall, thin, and looked around our age. Freckles were splashed across her nose and cheeks.

"Hey y'all, welcome to Tom's Bistro. You got others comin'?" Her eyes were on Brendon.

"No, it's just us," he said.

She was looking at him just a bit too much. A smirk curled up her lips. "You sure, honey?" Now her eyes flashed to me. Her expression darkened. "We've got plenty of room."

"It's just us," I said.

She ignored me.

Brendon looked her up and down, wearing an expression of mild interest. "Yes, it's just us for now," he said. A light smile played at the edges of his lips.

I didn't like the way he was looking at her. Something in my gut wrenched. I pulled my arm out of the crook of his elbow.

"All right, honey. Right this way," said the hostess.

She grabbed a stack of menus and sauntered off, his hips swishing. Brendon's eyes followed their movement. I felt sick to my stomach. We followed her to our table. She tossed the menus onto the table and turned to us.

"Oh, and my name's Georgia, by the way," she said. "I'll be up front if you need anything. An-n-nything at all. I'll be there." Her gaze lingered on Brendon for another moment, then she winked and left.