He shrugs. “I dunno. Go to a park or something.”
I snort. “You? In a park? Won’t you get mobbed?” I pour syrup onto my waffles.
“Possibly, but it’s a nice day. Probably one of the last we’ll have until it gets bitterly cold.”
“True,” I agree. “Sure, I guess we can go for a walk. I’m sure someone will snap a photo and your manager will see it—good PR. I can see the headline now, ‘Bennett James Goes for a Walk’,” I joke.
He throws his straw wrapper at me. “Ha-ha, you’re hysterical. I actually wasn’t thinking about the media,” he admits.
“Oh?” I take a bite of waffle—Bennett was right, it’s one of the best waffles I’ve ever had.
“No.” He takes a bite of his. “I just thought it would be nice.”
My fork hovers near my mouth. “Really?”
“Well, yeah.” He looks away awkwardly.
“Um, okay then. A short detour won’t hurt anything.”
He smiles. “Good. Now eat.”
“Always so bossy.” I shake my head.
When we’re done, Bennett wads up his napkin on the table and gives me a look. You know, the look someone gives you when they know they’re about to say something you’re not going to like.
“So, you still want to try out life on the bad side?”
“Yes,” I answer hesitantly.
“Then run.”
“What?” I look at him dumbfounded.
“Run,” he repeats. “Number Two on ‘Bennett’s Guide to Being Bad’: Dine and Dash.”
“You … You want me to get up and leave without paying? No, Bennett.”
“Grace.” He gives me a stern look. “This was your idea. I’m only following through on what you asked for.”
My eyes shift around the room and I bite my lip. “Okay.” I take a deep breath. I can do this. “I can’t do this.”
He laughs. “Yes, you can.”
I measure the distance between where we sit and the door. Another deep breath.
And then I’m up and running out the door. I keep running all the way to Bennett’s car. I can hear him running behind me, his steps heavier as they thump the ground. He unlocks the car and I dive inside.
He gets in and starts the car, pulling away quickly like we’ve just robbed a bank and not ditched our bill.
I lean back in the seat, my chest rising and falling heavily with each labored breath. “That was … invigorating. Can we do it again?”
He laughs outright and shakes his head. “I think we better stick to things that won’t get us in too much trouble. But it’s good to know you have a wild side, Grace.” He winks.
My heart is still beating a mile a minute and I’m not sure it’ll ever slow down. “Am I sweating?” I feel my forehead. “I feel like I’m sweating.”
He laughs. “No, you’re not sweating.”
“I thought I’d feel worse about that,” I admit, finally buckling my seatbelt. “But I feel so alive.”