The Accidental Girlfriend

“Drive-thru,” I said without thinking. “There are people inside.”

Laughing, he changed gear and moved the car into the lane for the drive-thru. “Do you know what you’re having?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods? This is McDonald’s, man, not a fancy steakhouse. Everyone knows what they’re getting when they come to this place.”

“True. Sometimes I change it up, though. Big Mac or a cheeseburger?”

“Both good,” I replied as we moved forward. “Depends if you fancy something cheesy or saucy.”

He flashed me an amused look, lips twitching to the side. “Well, I’ve got saucy in the next seat, so I guess cheesy.”

A laugh exploded from me. “Saucy? Really? I don’t think anyone has ever called me saucy in my life.”

“Ah, well, you’re bold and flippant, so that means you’re saucy.”

“Ooh. Handsome, unavailable, and a smarty-pants. Aren’t you walking temptation for women?”

It was Mason’s turn to laugh—and he did. Hard. “That’s only half of it. You should—”

“Hello, what can I get for you?” The voice boomed through the speaker, startling us both.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Uh, hi, I’ll have a large Big Mac meal with a Coke and… Uh, Lauren?”

“I’ll have a medium double cheeseburger meal, two servings of bacon, extra cheese, add ketchup, but hold the pickles, mustard, tomato, onion, and lettuce, and a strawberry milkshake, please,” I rattled off my regular order.

What? I was a fussy eater. As in, I liked my junk food without vegetables or salad.

“All right, move through to the window, please.”

Mason eyed me as he did just that. “Really? Is ordering a burger that complicated?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “I’m picky. About burgers, underwear, and men.”

“Three valid things to be picky about,” he said, amusement tingeing his tone. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re something else?”

“Yes, but it’s usually not a good something.” I side-eyed him.

“This is a good something. If this date were real and I had any intention of actually dating for real, I’d say this was a successful one.”

I held up my hand for a high-five. “I agree. Except for the altercation with the ex, that is. I wouldn’t advise that for a future first date. Or any kind of date, really.”

“Completely agree. I’d avoid it otherwise, too.” Mason pulled his wallet from his pocket.

“I can pay mine.”

“No, you’re good. Think of this as a thank you for letting my sister rope you into this nonsense.” He handed his card through the window before I could argue. “And I know you were partially to blame, but still. You didn’t have to agree.”

I made a noise that he could take as either dissension or agreement. I wanted to pay my way because this wasn’t a real date and I was stubborn, but a free cheeseburger was a free cheeseburger, and I wasn’t going to turn one down.

Yes, I was, in fact, in a serious relationship with food.

It was always there for you. Good news, bad news, no news—it was a loyalty I could get behind.

We rolled forward to the next window and waited. Our drinks were handed to us, and we pulled up into one of the parking spots allocated for the drive-thru.

“I miss the plastic straws,” Mason said, eyeing the cardboard one in his hand.

“You ever tried to drink a milkshake through one of these? It’s like sucking the soul from a devil,” I replied, shoving the cardboard straw into the cup and showing him exactly what I meant. My cheeks were completely hollowed out by the time I got my first mouthful of frozen shake.

Mason stared at me for a moment. “You have one hell of a way with words.”

“I’d bow, but there’s a dashboard in the way.” I grinned. “And thank you. It’s one of the things I pride myself on.”

He chuckled, putting his drink in the holder. “You know, this could have gone so much worse. I didn’t want to do this at all, but now a part of me is glad I did.”

“Only because I took your ex’s stiletto and stuck it up her ass.”

“For all intents and purposes, yes, but what other reason would there be?”

At that moment, the McDonald’s worker appeared and handed the bag full of food to Mason. He passed it to me so he could reverse out of the waiting spot and pull into one of the regular spaces.

I split the food. “I don’t know,” I said. “My stunning personality? My quick wit? How great this dress makes my boobs look?”

His eyes drifted down to my chest.

“Hey. Up here.” I snapped my fingers.

He jerked his eyes up. “Look, you basically offered me a glance there. I was taking it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. So this night was good because I shot down your ex and my boobs look good in this dress. I’m not as bothered by that as you’d think.”

I’d had worse real dates, never mind fake ones.