“Not even a little. Everyone is going to be pissed at me.”

I snorted. “For what? Moving on? Morrison sure did. Though it was a downgrade, if you ask me.”

Almost imperceptibly, she flinched. I immediately regretted what I said, even though it was true—that girl Morrison was with had nothing on Bailey. Not even in the same league. But tact wasn’t my strong suit, and she seemed vulnerable in a way I wasn’t used to dealing with.

She straightened her spine, glaring at me. “No, for sleeping with the enemy.”

“I don’t think literal sleeping counts.” I strolled past her and opened the passenger-side door, holding it for her. “Unless this is your way of hinting at something.”

“Definitely not.”

All I wanted was to get inside my truck and blast the air conditioning directly at my face. Stop by home and change into a T-shirt and jeans instead of this ridiculous suit. Then inhale at least three plates of food. I would figure out the rest later.

If her company factored into any of the above, all the better.

Unfortunately, she was hell-bent on arguing with me.

We stood, locked in a standoff, while I cooked under the sun, waiting for her to get in the damn vehicle. My truck chimed, reminding us that the door was still ajar. James might be the only person I’d ever met who was less argumentative while drunk.

Time to de-escalate the situation a bit.

Taking a few steps, I drew closer until she was within arm’s reach. I didn’t actually touch her, but that was the point. “James.” I dropped my voice, keeping it low and smooth.

“What?” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Do you have other plans tonight?”

Her mouth scrunched up. “No.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Everything?” She gestured between us. “You, me, this?”

I ducked my head, catching her eye. “Are you hungry?” It was just a guess, but it was dinnertime and would explain some of her irritability. And I was definitely starving. A massive burger was in order, stat. Maybe two.

As if on cue, her stomach gurgled loudly. Her cheeks flushed pink, which was pretty adorable. She jutted her chin defiantly. “No.”

“Great,” I said, ignoring her reply. “What are you in the mood for?”

She looked down at her black Converse. “I don’t know. Pizza? Burgers? I’m not picky.”

“Let’s swing by my place so I can change, and then we can grab some food. My treat.”

“Okay,” she grumbled, finally climbing into the truck.

* * *

After stopping by my place, we ended up at Burger Bar in the trendy brewery district nearby. We ordered their signature boozy milkshakes, burgers, and fries, and somehow, I even talked her into sharing an order of onion rings with me, but I was borderline worried she’d poison them if I wasn’t careful.