Page 188 of Love Unwritten
Rafael dressed up tonight in a button-down linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of dark shorts. While I was a secret fan of his more rugged outfits and appearance, I won’t deny he looks just as handsome right now. “You clean up nice, Prom King.”
His narrowed eyes travel over my face. “Never call me that again.”
I grin. “Afraid you may like it?”
“I can absolutely guarantee I won’t.”
I stick my tongue out at him, and he kisses my cheek with an airy laugh before leading me to his pickup truck. He opens the door for me before sliding into the driver’s seat and turning the key.
“So, what are we doing?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise.” He pulls out of my parents’ driveway before taking the road out of Lake Wisteria.
“We’re leaving town?”
He pushes against the accelerator. “Yup.”
“Do you not want to be seen in public with me?” I tease.
His eyes narrow in my direction. “I can turn back around and parade you down Main Street if that makes you happy. I’ll even find you a crown and declare you my prom queen.”
I glare. “Hilarious.”
“Would a sash entice you more?”
“Tempting, but I’ll politely pass on that for now.” I’d rather keep Rafael to myself for a few more weeks before everyone in town finds out about our relationship. The news would come with hundreds of questions I don’t feel like answering, so I’d rather delay that for as long as possible.
He chuckles. “That’s what I thought.”
“Aren’t you not allowed within a hundred feet of Main Street after the fire hydrant incident?” Supposedly, Rafael can’t get near any after opening one during Julian and Dahlia’s epic high school prank war.
“They lifted the ban last year.” His head tilts. “Wait. How do you know about that?”
“Um.” My cheeks burn as I fail to come up with an answer fast enough.
Something flashes in his eyes before he squints. “You graduated three years after me, right?”
“Yes?”
“The fire hydrant incident happened when I was a sophomore.”
“Huh. I didn’t realize. You know how fast word travels around here.” I keep a neutral expression despite my entire face giving my feelings away like a mood ring.
“And you knew I was the prom king.”
I cross my arms. “So did most of the student body.”
“But you also remembered what my superlative was.”
“I was part of the yearbook club.”
“And who handled the superlative section?”
“Some junior you weren’t friends with.” The answer slips out before I really think about Rafael’s question.
Shit.
His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Interesting how you would remember not only my superlative over a decade later but also whether or not I was friends with the person who put the page together.”