Chapter 4: Let's Do Lunch

Ethan

An old girlfriend of mine used to make me watch You’ve Got Mail with her all the time. She was obsessed with the entire movie, but especially one of the lines at the end. "I would’ve asked for your number and I wouldn’t have been able to wait twenty-four hours before calling you, for as long as we both shall live."

I finally understand what Joe Fox, the character played by Tom Hanks, meant by that. It’s been less than eight hours since she walked out of The Flying Goat and I’m already anxious to see her again, hear her voice, talk to her. Up before the alarm on my phone even sounded, I whistled through my shower and first cup of coffee. It’s truly unfortunate that she lives hours away and I’m here in Liberty, Michigan for the long haul.

I’ve never believed in love at first sight, but man, I can’t get Liv out of my head. There’s something about her that calls to my senses and I have this yearning to learn more about her. It did that first night so long ago as well, but I couldn’t do shit about it then.

After lacing up my boots, I slide my arms into my green canvas jacket and, grab my keys off the hook by the door and head out to meet Liv. Even though I barely slept last night, I’m still wide awake, anxious to see Liv again.

Last night I could barely wait thirty minutes after she walked out the front door of The Goat before I texted Liv the time and place to meet this morning. She replied back instantly that it worked for her and she knew where I was talking about. I had to shove my phone in my pocket to stop myself from sitting around texting with her the rest of the night.

Arriving at the small diner ten minutes early, I settle in at a table along the windows. It’s a casual sit-anywhere-you’d-like place that has the best breakfast in town. And, I’d go against almost anyone who denies they also have the best coffee. It’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall and a local favorite.

A server greets me immediately, "Good morning. I’m Amber. Just one of you today?"

She’s carrying a carafe of coffee and lifts it in the air, silently asking if I’d like a cup. I turn over my cup that’s sitting on a saucer on the table. "Yes, please. And no, I have someone joining me."

"Okay, I’ll be back once your friend arrives. Menus are right there," she points to the plastic menus that are slid between the salt and pepper shakers and the condiments.

"Thank you," I tell her, doctoring up my coffee with one of the tiny plastic tubs of creamer.

My leg bobs under the table as I stare at the door, open the menu, fiddle with it even though I already know what I’m getting. Pick up my phone and look at her last text.

Liv: Can’t wait. ☺

It was simple. Two words. A smiley face.

It’s been almost a year since I’ve been on a first date, if I can even call this a first date, which makes me even more anxious for Liv to arrive.

Black stocking hat with a fuzzy pom on the top sits on her head, long waves of blonde hair fall over her shoulders over her black jacket. She stomps her feet on the rug by the door. She’s wearing skinny camo pants and snow boots that are lined with faux fur at the top where they hug her calves. She pulls off her mittens, stuffs them in her bag hanging from her shoulder and looks around. Spots me. Smiles and my heart, fuck. It damn near stops.

She’s so beautiful.

Even more beautiful than the first time we met. Which is fucking bizarre. What are the chances that Olivia walked into my bar last night? I will never forget how pissed I was after learning that the girl from the parking lot was not only just seventeen but also completely off limits because she was also the little sister to one of my good friends. She was only there for the night and I never saw her again.

I can’t help but feel her walking into The Goat last night is a bit serendipitous. Whatever it is, I can’t fight it. Last night, I watched as she laughed and talked with her friends, making sure the birthday girl was having a good time. A few guys approached her and she brushed them off with barely a glance in their direction.

I want to stand on my chair, spread my arms around me and announce to the few people in the diner that this woman is here to see me. Make sure everyone’s aware what a lucky son of a bitch I am that she walked into my bar last night.

Instead, I stand from my chair and pull out hers as she walks over to our table. When she’s beside me, I bend low to kiss her cheek. The action surprises both of us. I freeze, lips a breath away from the cheek they were just pressed against. I lean back, my head coming up to meet her stunning golden brown eyes. "Sorry, that was, uh. I don't know." I rub the back of my neck and she shrugs, like it’s no big deal that I just kissed her cheek.

"Hi," she whispers.

"Hi back."

We’re standing inches apart and looking at each other like a couple of goons.

"Wanna sit?"

"Yeah," she says quietly, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the back of her chair.

Our server comes over immediately, probably standing back waiting for her to sit. Much like earlier when she greeted me, she’s carrying a carafe of coffee and lifts it.

"Yes, please," Liv says, turning over her cup.

"I’ll be back in a few to take your order, menus are on the table," she says.

I watch carefully as Liv fixes her coffee, a little bit of creamer and one packet of sweetener. Takes a sip, sets down her cup, smiles at me.

"Thank you for meeting me."

"Thank you for inviting me."

We each grab a menu, and open them up, placing them on the table in front of us. Head bent, I stare at it like it’s the first time I’m seeing the options, not the thousandth. I glance up at her just as her eyes dart to the table where her open menu sits. I smile when I see her bite her lip, embarrassed that she was caught staring at me, and duck my head.

She’s not just beautiful.

She’s absolutely "You’re adorable," I murmur. Our heads are downturned, eyes meeting each other over the table. I want to reach across, hold her hand. Her cheeks turn a rosy pink and she lifts a hand to touch the heat. Embarrassed. Cute.

"Thank you," she whispers. "You’re pretty," cute. I was going to say pretty cute too it we're interrupted and I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

"Have you decided?" our server asks, interrupting what she was about to say. I want to growl at her to go away, wanting to know what she thinks of me. Then again, I’m not stupid. She wouldn’t be sitting here right now, blushing at my compliment or looking at me the way she is if she thought I was a troll.

"I think we need another minute," Liv tells her.

"Sounds good, I’ll be right back."

I close my menu, not even sure why I was looking at it in the first place. I knew what I was getting before I arrived.

"Looks like you know what’s good here."

"Their omelets and hash browns are incredible. But their corned beef sweet potato hash is pretty damn good, too. I tend to alternate between the two."

She slaps together her menu and puts it away, cupping her hands around her coffee cup. Lifts it to her cotton candy pink lips, they pucker as she blows on the hot liquid then takes a sip.

I chuckle lightly and she winks.

Amber walks over. "Looks like you’re ready?"

As soon as I’ve placed my order of my omelet with ham, mushrooms, and cheese with a side of hash browns smothered in sausage gravy, Liv gushes. "Oh my gosh, that sounds so good! I’ll have the exact same and we’re also going to share a stack of pancakes, a plate of bacon, maybe a couple pieces of that mushroom and spinach quiche because that sounds really good to me, too, and he said the corned beef hash is too good to pass up so bring that and one of those giant cinnamon rolls, right Eth?" I nod, giving her a toothy smile. "And can I also get a glass of tomato juice? Did you want juice or just your coffee?"

My smile won’t go away. "Orange juice would be good."

She’s been watching me as she orders enough food for ten people, amusement dancing across her features.

Amber stands beside our table for a few more seconds, looking back and forth between us and then asks warily, "I almost hate to ask but, is that all?"

Liv pretends to think a moment then adds, "A bowl of fruit, too? We should probably eat something healthy, right?"

"Right," I mumble around the cup to my mouth.

Amber’s eyes are wide as she reads back our order, which takes a crazy amount of time. "Yup! You got it!" Liv chirps.

"Ho-kaaaayyy then. I’ll get your order in."

She walks away and I say, "Which could possibly take three hours to get all that made."

"Shut up! I can’t help it. I love breakfast."

"Noted."

Liv sits up straight, pats her stomach. "Trust me, it sounds like a lot but I can handle it."

"I’m not complaining," I promise.

"Plus, I wore my jeans with the most stretch in ‘em," she adds on cheekily, digging a thumb into the waistband to prove her point. "See? They look like jeans but really, they’re just super comfy fake pants."

I bark out a laugh and relax.

"Tell me about yourself."

"Boy, that’s not vague or anything."

I shrug. "It might be vague but there’s really nothing about you I don’t want to know. I only know you’re Owen’s sister and live in Chicago. And, besides, you ordered enough food that I figure we’ll be here a while."

"Wow."

"What?" I ask, head turning to the side as I take a healthy sip of coffee.

"You’re just, I’ve never had someone be so honest with me."

I take a breath, afraid that I’m pushing it or making her uncomfortable. "Sorry if I’m coming on strong. I don’t mean to, but I don’t like to beat around the bush. No pressure, I promise. Just tell me what you want me to know about you and I’ll find out the rest later."

She shakes her head while smiling. "Well, my real name is Olivia, which you already know, but everyone calls me Liv except for my grandparents. Sometimes my brother if he’s trying to be a cheeky asshole."

"What about your parents?"

"Um, they have a nickname for me."

It must be a doozy if she’s avoiding telling me. So, "Well now you’ve got to tell me. Come on. Out with it."

"No way."

Amber brings by our juice and places the warm cinnamon roll in front of us along with a bowl of fruit and two plates. "I figured you’d want to get started rather than it all coming out at once. And, um, I wasn’t sure if the table could hold it all."

Translation: there’s no way on God’s green earth you two are going to eat all that food you ordered unless you make it a marathon meal rather than a sprint.

She’s probably correct.

"Thank you," Liv says, her eyes lighting up at the size of the cinnamon roll. She doesn’t hesitate, rather diving into the side of the roll with gusto. It’s steaming and smells freaking delicious but I’m a bit afraid that if I try to take a bite I’ll end up losing a finger.

I lift my fork and hesitate before joining her. She huffs and rolls her eyes, "Go ahead, you big baby. Have some, too."

My lips twitch. "I thought we were sharing it?"

"Well, I hadn’t reeeaaally planned on that. I only said it because I knew I’d be judged for how much food I ordered."

My eyes bug out and I put my fork down. How the hell is she planning to eat all that? She’s tiny!

A laugh explodes from her lips and she quickly covers her mouth. "I just spit out some cinnamon roll!" she mumbles through a full mouth. I laugh at her honesty, liking her more and more with every minute that passes. She chews rather dramatically, holding up a finger for me to wait for her to continue. Just as dramatically as she chewed, she swallows, making a loud gulping sound. She takes a sip of her tomato juice and wrinkles her nose at it. "I was joking, you dork. Of course it’s okay for us to share! I can eat a lot but not that much."

I sag with relief while still chuckling. Not that I care how much she eats but I really didn’t want to see her puke all over the table from being too full. That’d put a damper on our breakfast date. "What’s wrong with your juice? Besides chasing down a gooey sugar-filled roll with it."

"I need Tabasco sauce or something. It’s kinda bland," she tells me, completely ignoring the fact that she just drank tomato juice after a cinnamon roll. Gross.

"I was right earlier."

"About?"

"You’re adorable."

"You know, if you keep calling me adorable, like I’m a little puppy, I’m going to develop of complex."

I almost apologize, but the twinkle in her eyes tells me she’s leading me a line of bullshit. I catch the attention of our server and call her over.

"Can we get some Tabasco?" I ask her and see Liv grin out of the corner of my eye.

"Sure thing."

As she hustles away I say, "She’s probably just glad we didn’t add more food."

"Whatever," she murmurs. "Now that we’ve talked about me, it’s your turn."

"You think telling me your real name is enough?"

She groans. "I’d held out hope. I don’t like talking about myself!"

"Obviously."

I sit silently, sipping coffee and munching on cinnamon roll. I pop a big piece of strawberry in my mouth and chew. "Fine! Guh. You’re annoyingly stubborn, aren’t you?"

"Yup."

Amber places the Tabasco sauce on the table and Liv makes quick work of shaking several dashes into her tomato juice, stirs it up with her fork, licks her fork clean then takes a sip to test it out. After she’s satisfied, she grins. "Okay, so don’t make fun of me for this."

"Uh oh."

"I know, I know. That’s like the worst lead-in in the world but, for real, don’t. You know those online magazines that people such a wide range of articles? Anywhere from What Disney Character Should You Marry to real news events?"

"You mean the ones that are constantly being shared on social media?"

"That’d be them, yes. I write the obscure articles. Well, not all of them, obviously. I’m a contributor to the online magazine."

"What’s the strangest one you’ve ever written?"

She doesn’t even hesitate in her answer, "Oh this one was hilarious." She wiggles in her seat and sits up straight like she’s really preparing for something epic. "Ready?" I nod, about on the edge of my seat. I take a drink of my orange juice then she says, "Worst Nicknames for your Vagina."

I choke on my juice, a little bit dribbling down my chin. I use my napkin to clean up the mess on my face. She seems rather pleased with herself at the level of shock value she just threw down. Her eyes are twinkling and she’s laughing so loudly we’re causing a scene in the diner. Curious gazes are being cast our way, mostly in amusement.

"Warn a guy, will ya?" I cough through the words, still trying to take in a normal breath. That was the very last thing I’d expected her to say.

"I know. That was kind of fun." She forks off a huge bite of cinnamon roll and shoves it in her mouth, cheeks puffing out as she tries to chew the massive bite.

"Do I even want to know how you researched that one?"

"Probably not."

"I think I’ll leave the list of names and the details as to how you got them for another time. Feels more like second or third date conversation."

She gives me a shy look at my assumption that I’ll be seeing her again, which would seem impossible to accomplish since she’s currently sporting chipmunk cheeks, but she somehow pulls it off. Liv nods, covers her mouth to finish chewing because the bite of frosting covered dough was that massive, mumbles, "Debibity."

"What was that? I think you tried saying definitely but you were too busy eating."

"I can’t help it! It’s delicious," she says much more clearly now.

She drops her hand, takes a sip of her now spicy tomato juice. Makes a loud "Ahhhh," noise. Finally settled, she watches me carefully as I tear off a hunk of roll with my fork.

Not wanting to be outdone by her show, I provide one of my own. I slowly lift it to my lips with her watching me, slide the fork into my mouth, licking the thick frosting off seductively, moaning like it’s the best damn thing I’ve eaten in a year. Which, I have to admit, it is pretty freaking amazing. My tongue snakes out, tasting the sweetness left on my upper lip. Heat flares in her eyes. Her tongue mimicking my own. I don’t even know if she’s doing it on purpose or just caught up in the moment. "You’re right. This cinnamon roll is fucking delicious." I get another bite on my fork and aim it in her direction. She opens up, thoroughly amused. I place it in her mouth, her full lips close around my fork, our eyes never stray from one another’s. Liv sits back just slightly and I pull the fork out of her mouth, then lick off the last of the frosting. "Mmm. Even better."

"Oh my gosh! Eth!" I love it that she calls me Eth instead of Ethan. No one calls me Eth and now it’s just for her. She fans her face and looks around, plops her elbow on the table, drops her head in her hand. Her shoulders are shaking and she’s trying not to laugh, which makes her snort in the process, which then makes her laughter grow until it becomes contagious and both of us are practically doubled over.

Amber comes over with a tray, giving us the side eye and probably wondering if we added a little vodka into our juice. She sets our plates in front of us, moving things around on the small table as best she can to make room for the plethora of plates.

Olivia works hard to suppress her laughter but she’s doing a shit job of it. And so is Amber, who finally just walks away, looking confused but completely entertained by us. Not only does it look like we’ve ordered a buffet of food, but we’re also staring at each other like a couple love struck idiots.

After she walks away, Liv blows out a breath, eyes taking in the extreme number of plates. "We might be here a while."

"Fine with me."

"Yeah? Me too. So are you ready for this?"

"Ready for what?" she asks, eyes scrunched together in confusion.

"Our first official meal together."

"First. I like that."

"I do too."