The restaurant Heath randomly chose was full of college-aged people, most of them sitting in booths, chomping on burgers and fries with textbooks open. “Is this a popular hangout?” he asked Chelsea as he led her to an empty booth. He’d asked her if it was all right before he’d pulled into park, and she’d said yes, but now, he was wondering if he should’ve taken her somewhere else, somewhere out of the way, so they’d have more privacy.
“Not with people I know,” she said with a shrug and then walked ahead of him, sliding into the far side of the booth.
Her breathing was shallow, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes when she spoke to him. She looked as beautiful as ever, and her figure certainly hadn’t changed. Yet. She folded her arms and refolded them, leaning on the table, sitting up straight.
