Fries Before Guys (SWAT Generation 2.0 2)

“If you find anything interesting…” she said softly. “I don’t want to know about it just yet, okay?”

“Not even if it’s really interesting?” I asked.

She shook her head. “After graduation, I want to know. Right now? I don’t.”

“Okay,” I said. “That works for me.”

She turned and left the room then, leaving me to pack stuff up that didn’t belong to me.

Things that looked important I put into a box labeled ‘important shit.’ Things that looked like trash, I threw into a trash bag that was quickly filling to the point of needing another.

After filling three such trash bags and spending over an hour going through two peoples’ lives, I needed a break.

Finding Avery in her bedroom, I knocked softly on her doorjamb.

“You want to go grab lunch?” I asked.

She looked up from stuffing clothing into a trash bag and frowned.

“What kind of food?” she asked.

I grinned.

“I was thinking of the new place where you eat out back on the hillside that allows you to look over the lake,” I said. “I haven’t been there yet, and they’re only open for afternoon hours. If we hurry, we can still make it.”

She got up stiffly, her shorts had ridden up to the point where they were in her ass crack and about three inches shorter than they normally were.

After pulling them back down to where they belonged—and still indecent if you asked me—she slipped her feet into Birkenstocks and gestured at me.

“Lead the way,” she said.

“We’re going in my truck,” I ordered. “I can’t do your car again.”

She snorted and followed dutifully behind me.

Everything was great when we arrived.

“This place is gorgeous,” she said, her hands squeezing tight. “Next time I’m bringing my camera.”

Grinning that I’d gotten a positive reaction out of her, seeing as I hated seeing her cry, I gestured for her to walk in front of me.

When we got close, she reached for the door to open it, but I leaned over her and got it for her.

She smiled. “Thanks.”

I didn’t say you’re welcome.

I couldn’t.

Because the woman was doing things to me that I couldn’t quite figure out how to deal with.

I didn’t like seeing her cry.

I liked even less seeing her struggle with life.

Logically, I knew that I couldn’t fix all the woes that ailed her.

But I could help.

I could make life easier for her.

Yet, somehow, I couldn’t make myself do that.

Instead, I stayed in her life, but only on the periphery. Like a goddamn scared rabbit who knew that he couldn’t handle the repercussions that came with dating a teenager.

“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes taking in the interior of the restaurant. “This is beautiful.”

It was pretty cool.

The entire back wall was open and looked out over the cliff that eventually led to the lake. There wasn’t much on the walls, but it was decorated with a vintage vibe that made you think ‘old country’ and not ‘modern’ at all.

The tables and chairs were all fifties-style diner and sparkled with reds and bright blues.

“I like it,” I muttered in agreement.

The hostess grinned at the both of us and waved. “Hello.”

Avery grinned back. “Hi! Table for two.”

The hostess gave me a curious look when I didn’t say anything.

“Would you like outside or inside?” she asked.

I looked outside to see that there wasn’t a single person eating out there and answered before Avery could.

“Outside,” I told her.

Avery looked over at me with a frown. “But it’s chilly, and I didn’t bring a jacket.”

I looked down at her and realized she was right. It was on the chillier side and being outside would definitely make it uncomfortable for her. Unless…

“I have a sweatshirt in the truck,” I said. “Would that be enough?”

Avery immediately nodded her head. “Yes. That’ll be perfect.”

Just as I was walking out, a girl and her boyfriend walked in.

“Excuse me,” I muttered, pushing past them and heading outside.

I watched through the front window as the hostess led Avery outside, and another hostess spoke with the young teens who’d walked in behind us.

Making it to my truck, I pulled out the sweatshirt and decided to walk around the back of the building to the side stairs that led to the back porch.

I made it around the back of the building just in time to hear raised voices.

“I am not leaving!” a girl—the same girl that’d followed us in—yelled. “I am on a date!”

Avery didn’t say anything, just crossed her arms over her chest. Saying without words that she wasn’t leaving, either.

“Rachel,” the boy with her urged. “Let’s just go. This is getting out of hand.”

His girlfriend who was definitely not fifty yards away from Avery, if this was the girl that Avery had a restraining order against.

“I’m. Not. Leaving,” Rachel snarled, her hands going out in front of her to push Avery. “You are!”

I watched it happen as if in slow motion.