Pretend You're Mine (Inked Hearts 3)

Leighton turns to me and nods to the salsa bar. “Watch and learn.”

“I’m studying under the master.”

“You’d like to be under me, wouldn’t you?” The joke doesn’t land. Her smile stays sad.

She shakes it off as she sets the plates on the silver bar. She picks up the tongs and grabs slices of limes two at a time.

“Chicken is perfect with citrus.” She stacks eight slices on the plate.

“That great?”

“Yes. That great.” She grabs a green container of salsa. “Traditional salsa verde is perfect.” She drowns the plate in salsa.

“It’s gonna be a mess.”

“Life is a mess. Grab a fork if you can’t handle it.”

I do. And napkins.

She laughs. “That was a dare.”

“What if I need my hands clean?”

She presses her lips together. For a second, her eyes meet mine. Then they’re on the second plate. “I went easy on you. Steak and chicken. No tongue. Not even chorizo.”

“You’re kind.”

“Thank you, I know.” She grabs an orange-red salsa. “Chipotle brings out the flavor best. Trust me. I’ve tested it.” She drowns these tacos in the orange-red sauce. “But we need a little of this—” She grabs a different green salsa. “Avocado salsa. The nectar of the gods.”

“That why you use so much?”

“Don’t hate until you’ve tried it.” She uses tongs to shower the plates in cilantro. “Now, they’re perfect. Trust me. You’ll be begging for seconds.”

“Guess you’ll still get me begging.”

Her eyes go to the concrete. “Ryan. Can we… Let’s just eat, okay?”

“Yeah.” Hunger doesn’t exactly make conversation easier.

She follows me down the street. Past my previous spot. “Where are you going?”

“It’s a surprise.” I lead her around the corner.

It’s a dozen blocks to the nearest park. We walk them in silence.

The air between us stays heavy.

We step under the yellow glow of a streetlight. Take seats on an empty concrete bench.

Leighton sets the plate between us.

I hand over her water bottle.

Her fingers brush mine as she takes it. “I forgot about this place.”

“I run here sometimes.”

“It’s small.” She looks at the empty basketball court. It’s late enough the lights are off. Kids are home.