Page 90 of I Think He Knows
“What can I get for you?”
My eyes return to the menu board, where the famed summer special is featured front and center. “I’ll have the peach milkshake, please.”
“Alrighty. Anything else?”
“Um… actually, make that two. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
I pull my Jeep around to the pick-up window, and at the same time, try to pull my head out of the clouds.
Last night, I kissed Lana Mae, and it was… unforgettable. In a way that makes me wonder how on earth I’ve been living all these years without once doing it. Kissing someone you love, someone you have such deep feelings for that they’re rooted in an inextricable part of you, is a whole new world. An experience unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
I can’t get enough. All I can think is that I want to do it again. When we leave for LA in two days, I plan to do nothing but kiss her every second that we get to be alone on our trip.
With the milkshakes securely in cupholders, I swing onto the highway. Lana’s got work today and Legs is at school, and I’ve decided to ditch my usual schedule of workouts and meetings to see my new buddy Jared.
Yup, this past week has held a lot of new things for an old(ish) man, because in chatting to Jared for hours at the campout, we hit it off. For the first time in years, I have a new friend (who is not also employed by me) and he doesn’t care that I’m Carter Callahan, the actor. He simply enjoys spending time with Carter Callahan, the human who is in no way as cool, glamorous, wild, or promiscuous as his public persona might suggest.
When I arrive at Stone Mountain Park, Jared’s already in the parking lot, tying his shoes.
“Hey, man,” I holler as I jump out of my Jeep.
Jared straightens. Looks from me, to my vehicle, to me again. Then, he smiles and nods at my Jeep. “Nice ride.” He says this with obvious jokey sarcasm—the man speaks my language.
“Top of the line model from about two decades ago.” I match his smile, then awkwardly hold out a drink topped with a huge dollop of whipped cream, suddenly aware that it might be a bit weird to buy another man a milkshake. “Uh… stopped to get a shake and thought you might like one, too.”
“Didn’t realize this was a first date,” Jared says, then gives that booming belly laugh of his.
“If it was a first date, I would’ve at least brought flowers,” I shoot back.
“I’d take a milkshake any day.”
“Me too, actually.” I take another sip of mine. Peach is my new favorite flavor.
“Gonna be a bit hard to trail run with these, though.”
I shrug. “Let’s walk, then.”
Jared looks a touch relieved. “I’m down.”
And so, the two of us big, grown-ass men, set off on one of the area's most popular hiking trails, the sun beating down on us as we drink matching pink-hued milkshakes and stroll up the mountain at a leisurely place, chatting the whole time.
My trainer would have a literal heart attack. But he’s three thousand miles away.
And I’m here. In Atlanta. Climbing a mountain and feeling on top of the world. Also feeling a little stitch forming in my side already, thanks to the thousand calories of dairy I’m currently consuming.
“I hear you and Lana Mae moved in together?” Jared asks, and a smile splits my face.
“We did.”
“You guys set a date yet?”
I look at him, uncomprehending. “For?”
He gives me a funny look. “The wedding…?”
“Oh!” I clear my throat and look at the path. Adjust my sunglasses. “Um. No, not yet.”