Chapter 3

He ignored the jabs of his friends as he hurried over to my table and plopped his tray down across from mine.

I laughed, shaking my head as I popped a French fry into my mouth. McDonald’s has the best. “So, are you guys headed to Nashville?” I asked, suppressing a smile.

He leaned in and his beautiful eyes looked directly into mine, then whispered conspiratorially, “Is it that obvious?”

I giggled as I nodded toward the restaurant’s huge plate glass window to his car. “Nashville or bust?” I laughed, enjoying the exchange.

“Yeah. I guess it is that obvious,” he replied, then took a huge bite of his Big Mac, devouring half of it in one bite.

“Really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, I guess that wasn’t the most romantic thing to do.” His lips curled into a sexy half smile.

I shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said as he took another bite of his sandwich. He was enjoying it so much that I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Enjoying yourself?” I asked, taking a bite of my fish sandwich.

“You have no idea,” he said, finishing it off. “Big Macs are one of life’s guilty pleasures.”

I laughed, enjoying myself more than I had in a long time. “Guilty pleasures?”

“Yeah; that, and making out,” he said matter of fact as he opened his other Big Mac.

“Okay. I think I’ll take the rest of mine to go…”

“Sorry,” he said with a shrug, “but it’s the truth.” He took another bite of his Big Mac, and the look on his face was nothing short of euphoric. He looked so innocent that I laughed.

“So, where are you headed?” he asked between bites.

“What makes you think I’m headed anywhere?” I asked, popping another French fry into my mouth.

This time, it was his turn to look out the window toward my car. “Well, your car being so loaded down that you can barely drive it was no clue.”

I laughed as I shook my head. “Yeah. I guess it is pretty obvious.”

One of his friends looked down at his watch and got up. “Shit, man.” Then, he looked over at us. “Logan, we’ve gotta jet!” With that, all of his friends started clearing off their table.

“Logan?” I asked, realizing that I was sitting there talking to a complete stranger and I didn’t even know his name.

“Yeah; Logan Ambrose,” he said, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you. And your name is?” He raised his eyebrows expectantly. When I didn’t respond right away, he said, “Come on. Really? We just shared a romantic meal together.”

“Romantic?” I asked, clearly amused.

“Logan, man,” his friend yelled across the room, “get her number and let’s go!”

The guy behind the counter frowned.

“Dick,” Logan said under his breath as he shook his head, then turned his attention back to me. “Come on. I may never see you again. Please, at least tell me your name.”

The look in his eyes was so innocent that I couldn’t resist. “Alyssa. Alyssa Collins.”

A broad smile spread across his lips. “Well, Alyssa Collins, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Logan, let’s go!” his friend yelled. The other guys were already out the door. “If you don’t come on now, I’m leaving your lame ass!”

“Kyle, I’m coming!”

From the way Kyle laughed, his mind was definitely in the gutter. “Okay, man. Whatever you say.”

“Ass,” Logan said under his breath, and then turned his attention back to me. “Look: I have to go, but may I have your number?”

“And he has manners, too,” I hedged, laughing.

His friends started honking the horn and revving the engine outside. “Come on, Logan!” they yelled from the car.

The manager looked up, frowning again.

“I have to go before my friends get kicked out of the McDonald’s parking lot,” Logan said, clearly torn. “What’s your number?”

“I don’t have one,” I said, suddenly regretting not having taken the phone that my father had bought me. I vowed to get one as soon as I got to Nashville until I could get a better phone.

Logan looked around desperately, then down at my paper bag and ran to the counter. “Do you have a pen?” he asked the manager, who just stood there, looking at him. “Man, I’m begging you. Give me a pen and I’ll give it right back.”

“Logan, man!” his friends yelled from outside.

“Give me a pen and I’ll get my friends out of here,” Logan said, then added, “Please.”

“Only if you’ll leave with them,” the manager replied.

“Of course,” he said innocently.

“Here,” the manager slid a pen at him across the counter. “Now, get your friends out of here before I call the cops.”

“I love you, too,” Logan said to him sarcastically, then ran over to me and quickly scribbled something down onto my paper bag. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you again.”

“The pleasure was mine,” I replied, then held up my half-melted sundae. “Thanks for the ice cream.”

“It was the least that I could do,” Logan said. “I have to go. Will you call me?”

“Logan, man…” Kyle said, exasperated, holding the door open. His other friends were yelling from the car.

“Just give me a minute…”

Kyle rolled his eyes and walked out.

Logan turned his attention back to me. “Will you call me?”

I smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

A broad smile spread across his face. “That’s good enough for me. I’ll see you later, Alyssa Collins.”

I nodded as he ran out the door. “You guys are dicks!” he yelled at his friends just before the door closed.

I laughed as I shook my head, then watched as he jumped into the car just as it sped off. When I looked down at the paper bag, it said:

Thanks for dinner.

They were the best Big Macs I ever had,

but what made it the best was spending time with you.

Nice to meet you, Alyssa Collins.

Maybe we can indulge in more

of life’s guilty pleasures sometime.

Ha, ha!

Call me,

Logan Ambrose

His number was written at the bottom of the note. Typical guy, I thought to myself. Then, I tore the note from the paper bag and slipped it into my purse.