Page 27 of Check You Out

“What are you doing here?” He asks,

My stomach grumbles. “My date stood me up.”

Aidan lets out a low whistle. “I’m sorry. How long have you been here?”

“An hour. I’m fucking starving.” I shake my head, leaning forward and resting my chin in my hand, with my elbow digging into my thigh. “I shouldn’t have agreed to it or even waited this long, but…” My voice trails off. I stare down at my pedicured toes; a drop of the navy polish stuck to my toe knuckle from my rush job this morning. I dig my heel into the brick. “I should’ve known that a guy named Crunch would have done something like this. I mean who names their kid Crunch?”

I don’t say that I mainly accepted this date on an impulsive whim because I’m convinced that Aidan only wants to be friends with me. We had coffee and pizza together and I thought I flirted, but he didn’t seem interested in the flirting, or me at all. Now I’m regretting it. I should’ve taken Nicole’s advice and asked Aidan out.

He nods. “It has to be a nickname.”

I toss my hands. “He said it was his legal name, but he could’ve changed it later in life.”

“What are you going to do now?” Aidan asks.

“Fully embrace spinsterhood and get a dozen cats. But I should probably get something to eat first.”

“They don’t let you adopt a cat on an empty stomach,” Aidan adds.

I sit back against the bench and chuckle. “I completely agree. Any recommendations? I’m out of decision tickets.”

He nods and leans back a bit in his seat. “Yes, I do. I know the perfect place. Mind if I join you?”

I study him for a second. “But didn’t you just eat?”

His mouth ticks up at the corner. “They were small plates, plus I didn’t have dessert.”

I lift up my hand to pat his shoulder, but my fingers freeze midair. “Let me guess, you’re a growing boy and need something with substance?”

Aidan’s mouth widens into a grin. “Clearly.” He takes my hand and lifts me to my feet. I feel a little lightheaded as I breath in the faint smell of caramel and coffee.

About twenty minutes later, we’re walking up the stairs of a chrome plated diner in Ellicott City. We walk in, and my eyes find a giant glass case near the front, filled with massive desserts.

“A diner?” I ask Aidan with a raised eyebrow. “Your solution to my hanger is a diner?” I point a finger at the succulent treats. “I mean cake always makes me happy.”

“Welcome to the EC Diner.” Aidan smirks.

“Please tell me you’ve eaten here before,” I inquire. I glance into the dining room. The only people here are older couples and high school students.

“I grew up coming here.”

The host, a middle-aged man with an accent I can’t quite place, takes us to a wood paneled booth, and we’re given books for menus. A jukebox sits at the end of the table, partially blocking my view of the window.

“When was that?” I ask as I flip through the sticky laminated pages of breakfasts, burgers, salads, steaks, and seafood. “Holy moly. Do they serve everything here?”

“Yes, except they stopped serving this delicious gyro club,” Aidan says, resting his hand over his chest. “It’s the go-to place for when you’re sad, or celebrating a win with your lacrosse team, or hungover, or both.” He gestures over to the table of giggling high school students, who must be members of a boys’ lacrosse team, based on their shirts.

Crossing my arms, I sit back in my chair and peer at him through squinted eyes. “I don’t envision you as a lacrosse player.”

He shakes his head. “Hell no. Not that I have anything against it. I’m sure lacrosse is a beautiful sport filled with camaraderie and teamwork.”

“They hit each other with aluminum poles.”

Aidan’s brows knit, and he leans back a bit into the booth. “They hit each other with aluminum poles?”

I nod slowly. “Yup.”

“How is that safe for children to play?” he replies in a concerned voice.