Page 121 of Indescribable

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Page 121 of Indescribable

“Crud! I’ll go grab you two menus. I’m so sorry!”

“No worries, just a little busy in here, huh?”

“Definitely.”

She rushes off and returns with our menus a moment later.

Cash and I open our menus and I know instantly what I’m getting so I close the menu.

“Wow. You already know?”

“I’m decisive,” I tell him with a shoulder shrug.

He looks through the menu and I take time to look around the room. Everyone looks exhausted and a bit annoyed that their travel plans have been delayed. It makes me feel slightly guilty for being happy that I’m here right now rather than on a flight back to Chicago.

Our waitress brings our drinks and asks if we’re ready to order.

“Yup,” Cash says, closing his menu and taking a long pull from his beer.

“What can I get you two?”

He waits for me to order with a point in my direction and I hate that it makes me a little shy. “Can I get the chicken quesadilla that’s on the appetizer menu with extra salsa and sour cream? And a side of the chips and guacamole, please.”

“Great choice. That’s one of my favorites.”

She nods and writes it down then shifts her attention to him. “And for you?”

“Buffalo chicken sandwich, fries. Ranch dressing on the side, please.”

She takes our menus and smiles brightly even though I can tell she’s swamped. “Perfect. I’ll get those in straight away. As you can see, it’s a little packed in here so it may be a little bit. Our staffing wasn’t prepared.”

“Thanks,” he says, leaning back in his chair and taking in the crowd.

“Everyone’s so pissed.”

“Right? Like anyone has control of the weather,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“I was a little worried the flight would be delayed but honestly didn’t expect a cancellation. Otherwise I would have just stayed at my hotel, you know?”

“Yeah, me too. I’m glad we don’t have to sleep on the airport floor, but it’d be nice to have my luggage.”

“I carried on so I’m good. I suppose that’s the benefit of being a guy. I pack light.” He grins and fiddles with the napkin on the table. “So, Chicago, huh?”

I nod and scrunch my nose. “Yeah. Chicagoan born and raised.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“It’s not that, it’s just a little…” I pause, trying to think of the correct word, “suffocating.”

He tips his head back and barks out a laugh. I’ve never thought a neck could be sexy before but his is. Strong. That’s the only word I can think to describe it.

“Suffocating?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Explain how the third largest city in America can feel suffocating.”

With a twist of my lips, I contemplate how much I want to tell him. He’s a perfect stranger and it’s not that I’ll ever see him again. Leaning forward on my elbows on the table — something my mother would not approve of — crossing my arms. He mimics my position, putting our faces closer.




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