blue (book one) - h.s. ✔️ watty's 2019

chapter 44

"No, Harry. We did not come to Roswell to eat burgers," I complain not looking up from my phone as I surf TripAdvisor for fine cuisine.

"It's not just some burgers, Park," Harry argues drawing out the word 'some'. "They're Roswell burgers. Maje difference."

Rolling my eyes, I choose to ignore him. There is no way in hell I am spending our last night in New Mexico eating at a burger joint. Harry often lets his fascination with American cuisine ruin his fine tastes. This is where I step in.

Scrolling through the website, I come across several decent looking restaurants.

A place called Los Cerritos Mexican Restaurant looks promising and they're vegetarian friendly!

I think we have a winner.

WHEN WE GET to the restaurant it is situated in the coziest part of the city! The simplicity of it draws me and Harry to conclude that this is an okay decision.

As we walk in we get a couple of stares from onlookers, but not because we are holding hands. No, they seem to think that we are some celebrity couple. This is weird.

The site did mention that the area's slightly more rural than the rest of the city, but I wasn't expecting this.

I look up at Harry and sure enough he's loving all of the attention. Smiling from underneath his dark glasses are his pearly whites exposed to perfection.

He actually does kind of look like a celebrity.

Perhaps in some alternate universe he does take on such a life. He has the look to be a part of that world; his singing voice is even surprisingly pleasant.

I smile at my idiocy and lean closer into the giant. I could never let him know these thoughts. He'd surely grow a big head because of them.

Wrapping an arm around me, he opens the door for the both of us and guides me to a table in the back.

I take a seat across from him and reach over to touch the lip ring I am just now noticing.

"I like it," I start taking a sip from the water the waitress set at our table.

"I didn't know you had a piercing," I continue taking off my cardigan and lying it beside me. It seems warm enough in here.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he jokes sipping from my water.

"I know," I agree and he looks at me with an unreadable expression.

"Hola! Bienvenido a Los Cerritos," a beautiful, Spanish woman greets the both of us with a menu.

"Gracias, señora. Oh, no, lo siento, señorita. Perdóname," Harry starts, speaking fluently in the language.

What the hell?

After a small exchange of words between Harold and the waitress, Rose, she leaves the table with a promise to check in with us momentarily.

"You should know I am fluent in several languages," he smirks.

"Spanish not included."

I just stare at him mouth slightly agape.

"Close your mouth, baby. It's rude," he continues, chuckling. Following his instructions, I unfold the napkin on my side of the table and set it on my lap still in shock.

"Tonight. I'm yours. Ask me whatever you may like," he announces, leaving me flabbergasted.

Clearing my throat I begin looking for the right questions to ask, my anxiety rising at the suddenness of it all. This is all so unexpected. There are so many questions.