Page 69 of Never Say Never
Okay.I don’t reply, but I also don’t pull my hand out of his until we reach his car.
We picked a spot ten minutes from my house, so the drive is short. It’s a trendy Cuban fusion restaurant, and apparently the staff has experience accommodating local celebrities.
Taylor discretely called a couple of trusted photographers to catch our arrival. As soon as we park, Rawley opens my door, and our hands are linked again as we walk down the sidewalk.
“Smiles on,” Rawley says.
We don’t speak, which is for the best. If I’m talking during photos, half the time I end up looking like I’m mad about something, even in the most innocent of conversations. Instead, I push the smile on my face and keep it there.
“Rawley, Avery, look here please.” And yup, here are the friendly paps Taylor must have called. We don’t break our stride, but tilt our heads in their direction so they can get their shot.
“Thank you,” they say as we reach the door to the restaurant, and they lower their cameras.
“This is so weird,” I whisper to Rawley.
“I’m starting to have more sympathy for Landon and Rori.”
Yes, I can imagine how intense things have been for them, knowing how they dominated the public chatter last year.
“Hi, Rawley and Avery, if I can call you that?” a woman says as we make our way through the restaurant entrance, our hands still clasped. “I’m Luisa, one of the owners. Let me escort you to the private room we have for you.”
Taylor had instructed us to use the front entrance in the event that some diners took pics too, adding to the potential social media impact.
Luisa takes us through the general dining area and heads definitely turn our way, as well as some phones. Once we get to the private room, I breathe a sigh of relief and drop my glued-on smile. Luisa gets us situated, asks us what we’d like to drink, and then disappears.
I look up at Rawley to find him wearing a half-amused expression. “Finally alone again. That was quite the production for a two-minute blip.”
“I never thought anyone would be so interested in me walking to get food.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “Well, we got the job done.”
Luisa and another woman enter the space with our drinks.
“The chef would love to make some of his favorites tonight, unless you two would like to order off the menu?”
“No, that sounds amazing to me. Rawley?” I remember a split second late he knows more about food than me.
“I’m great with that.”
The ladies leave, and we’re alone again.
“Did you have a good few days?” he asks.
“They weren’t bad. I feel like I’m getting into the rhythm, slowly. I’ve spent the first bit of the season banged up and exhausted, though adrenaline has saved the day.”
“How many games do you play? I should know, I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine. We play forty in the regular season, although it’s supposed to increase to forty-four next year.”
“Okay, so like half the NBA basically.”
“Yeah. Next year I’ll probably be sad when the season ends, but right now I don’t mind there’s not more games. I’m going to be ready for a break after the playoffs.”
“Coming straight from school, I get it. What do you like to do in your time off?”
I laugh. “Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I really got to chill, for real.”
“I would say the same, but I coasted at school in the offseason.” He raises his lips in a half grin.
