Given Time

♡10♡

It's 12:25 p.m. and Tanner's late.

In the time I've been sitting here waiting for him, I've finished an entire cup of coffee while tapping my foot on the metal table leg.

Checking my watch again, I see another minute has passed, and I still can't see him. Losing faith, I decide to leave just as he bursts into the café. "You're late," I gripe when he reaches the table.

"Sorry. I feel asleep after getting back from a training session. As soon as I woke up and realized what time it was, I got in my car and floored it," he explains in a hurried rush.

His flushed appearance and bed hair make me believe that he's telling the truth. "It's fine, Tanner. I'm just glad you showed."

"What do you want to eat? I believe I owe you a meal."

"I'll just have whatever you're having." He gives a curt nod to my response and goes over to join the short line.

With nothing else to do, I drum my fingers on the table and watch him shuffling slowly forward in the line. For once, Tanner's dressed down in a worn-out pair of jeans that have a hole in the knee, and a gray creased T-shirt, which shows off the tattoos on his arms.

Even with his messy appearance, he still looks like he's stepped out of a commercial.

I wish I was that lucky. Even if I spent hours doing my hair and makeup, I wouldn't even come close to looking half as good as he does.

Laughter from the table next to me swiftly interrupts my thoughts.

"He's so gorgeous," I hear one say, giggling.

"He has to be the hottest guy I've ever seen," another gushes.

"I wonder if he's single," a third says in rapid succession.

It seems I'm not the only girl watching Tanner. When I look over to their table, I catch one girl already looking at me, giving me a dirty look. I imagine she's under the impression that he's my boyfriend or something, but I bet if she knew the truth, she'd be all over him like a rash.

I do my best to ignore her stares and focus on tearing my napkin into little pieces.

"I hope you still like pasta?" Tanner asks, making me jump as he places a tray of food and drinks on the table a few minutes later.

"I do, thank you," I reply while sweeping the bits of napkin to the side of the table.

"No problem." He picks up his fork and digs into his pasta straight away.

I take a bite of mine but find it too hot, so I take a sip of my replenished coffee and watch him eat, wondering what I'm even doing here. I could be studying or exploring the area more, but instead I'm here having to watch him down food like it's an Olympic sport.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" he asks after a while, running his hand over his mouth.

"No, I just can't eat mine yet."

"Oh. Want me to blow on it for you," he asks cheekily, puffing his cheeks up.

"No. I'm not a child," I say, crossing my arms.

He rolls his eyes and fills his mouth with more pasta. "It's just a joke. Do you always have a stick up your ass, or is your grouchy behavior just reserved for me?"

"I'm not grouchy," I tell him defensively. "I'm just wondering why you've made me have lunch with you on my day off when I could be doing something better with my free time."

"Come on, Le-Le."

"Leah!" I snap.

Why does he insist on calling me that annoying nickname? No one else does.