Blondie tapped the menu. “I was just looking at the breakfast sampler. I’d love to get it, but I’ll need three extra pieces of bacon.”

Martha looked completely infatuated with her as a smile spread across her face. “A girl who knows how to eat is a girl after my own heart. I’ll get that right on for you, sweet pea.” She looked over to me. “And you, Brent?”

“Whatever she’s having,” I replied, briefly looking over the menu I’d seen a million times for dramatic effect.

She snatched the menu from my hands, and I looked up at her as if she’d offended me. Fallon gave an overly polite performance, handing her menu back with a sly smile on her face. “I’ll get those plates right out for you two lovebirds,” she said, walking away in her typical dramatic fashion.

I caught Fallon silently admiring Martha, probably hoping she could be as blunt as she was with me.

Leaning back, I lounged in my side of the booth, spreading my arms across the seat. I needed to decompress and chill after the day’s events. For good measure, I propped a foot up right next to Blondie’s thigh on her side of the booth. Some entertainment was needed to help me fucking relax.

She shoved my foot.

I grunted, peeking through my closed eyes. “I’m trying to get comfortable here, Blondie.” I let my head fully relax on the seat behind me, the vinyl squeaking under its weight.

“What puts your comfort over mine?” A slight hint of fight was in her voice.

I tried not to laugh. “Get as comfortable as you’d like. I have a few suggestions if you're privy to listen.”

She leaned over the table. “Can I ask you a question?”

Good lord she didn’t know when to stop. “You just did, babe.”

“Then, I have another,” she huffed.

“Shoot.”

She hesitated for a moment, and I thought I heard her gulp. “Why are we here? Like, together?”

“You said you were hungry. I know a place with good food. Simple.” What’s your point?

“You play baseball, right?” I could hear her leaning over more. Was she staring at me?

“Mhm.”

She pushed my foot more until it fell off the seat entirely. I peeked at her from my relaxed position, noticing her body language was fully invested in me. I guess I’ll oblige, I thought, sitting back up to face her.

“Nepo baby or scholarship?” she prodded.

What were we playing, twenty questions? “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Touche.” She took another sip of her coffee.

I accepted her challenge. Girls never gave me much of a fight, and she was just interested enough that I could probably have her eating out of my hand in no time. I figured I would hit her with something she least expected.