Page 51 of Catching Feelings

“VIP customer,” I repeat, hoping the intensity of my gaze and the insistent press of my hand at the small of her back convey just how VIP she is. The way she looks up at me from beneath her lashes and lets her hip brush mine tells me: Oh yes, she knows.

I steer her toward the best booth, in the corner. There’s a Reserved sign on top of it, written in my best calligraphy.

Sabrina stares at it for a long moment, then scrunches up her nose at me. “What does that say? Restaurant? Relatives? Re—”

Okay, maybe my best calligraphy isn’t very good. “Reserved,” I murmur in her ear. “For us. Because this date is the only thing I’ve been thinking about for this whole shift, and I’m afraid I messed up more than one order as a result.”

And then her cheeks flush and she thumps down into the booth as if her legs have given out. “Oh,” she says. “Well, be careful not to give Shannon Bittle gluten. You know she—”

“Yes, yes, I know.” I take one step back, then another, all without breaking eye contact. I point at her before I turn away. “Stay right there while I chase some customers out.”

She folds her hands atop the table and crosses her legs obediently. My mouth goes dry, and I almost trip over my own feet as I hurry back to one of my remaining tables.

Lindsey’s brother, Luke Dawson, is closing tonight—I guess he’s home for the weekend from Chicago and giving Lindsey a night off for a date with some girl she’s been talking to.

I don’t really know the guy, but he listens intently while I stammer my way through a request to stay late, because there’s this girl—and if he asks Lindsey, she’ll confirm that I’m reliable, I have references—

“It’s all good. I get it.” He waves a hand casually through the air, tossing me the keys with a grin. “The things we’ll do for the girls who run our lives, right? Just don’t burn the place down or anything dumb. Oh! And stay away from the freezer if you know what’s good for you. Last time I was here with someone after-hours, it involved a lot more risk of frostbite than most girls consider romantic.”

I blink at him, and he shakes his head. “Never mind. Make good choices!”

He winks at me—something only a guy that disarmingly good-looking can pull off—and leaves before I can do anything other than blush furiously. The window frames a grinning Harper waiting for him. He immediately tucks her under his arm, and the two of them head off into the sunset.

I hurry through my closing routine, Sabrina typing on her phone in the corner of my vision. The only thing I leave undone is a few dishes in the kitchen, because I have a plan for tonight.

And that plan involves milkshakes.

I plop two overflowing glasses topped with whipped cream and cherries in front of her—strawberry for her, vanilla for me. She smiles and shakes her head while pulling the strawberry one toward herself. “I still can’t believe you’re a vanilla guy. Everyone knows that’s the most boring flavor.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you calling me boring?”

“Your words, not mine…”

I pluck the maraschino cherry from my drink and throw it at her, but she just catches it in her mouth.

“Wow.” I blink. “Is that your talent?”

“Put me on the gymnasium floor,” she says without missing a beat.

I raise an eyebrow. “How about that one where you tie the stem in a knot with your teeth?”

She leans forward across the booth, pulling the cherry from her lips and twirling it teasingly. “Now you’re getting carried away. I’m not consuming a morsel of this. Haven’t you heard how these things cause cancer?”

“No!”

She nods emphatically. “Read it somewhere science-y.”

“Well, in that case…” I lean forward. “I’ll eat it for you.”

“My hero.” She flutters her lashes, and I lean across the booth to plant a kiss on those strawberry-sweetened lips. She hums into my mouth, and any nerves I had about our first real date melt away along with the whipped cream.

Sabrina and I are good. Good when she’s driving me home, when we’re secretly orbiting each other at a party, when she’s cheering on the sidelines, when I’m doing her bidding so she can continue to strive for world domination. And we’re good here, too.

Then her phone rings. The instant she looks down at the screen, her entire expression darkens. It’s instinct to follow her gaze—but when Dad lights up the screen, I wish I hadn’t.

She swallows hard, meeting my eyes again. “You okay?” I keep my voice low.

“Yeah.” Sabrina shrugs. “I just… He hasn’t really taken responsibility for anything he did to my mom. Even this summer, we never talked about it. This is the first time he’s called this year! And it makes me so mad, but I don’t want to cause more problems. And I certainly don’t want him to ruin tonight.”