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His lips kick up into the smallest smile as he accepts it and chucks the whole thing into his mouth. “You’d be surprised to know that I occasionally put milk into my coffee these days.”

I gasp dramatically. “Rebel.”

He snorts.

We share the bag of pretzels until there’s none left, and banter back and forth about the fall of pop music thanks to autotune and cancel culture, until we enter Pittsburgh.

It isn’t until he stops in front of his apartment complex that he turns to me. “Go on a date with me.”

I stare at him, unblinking. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Dragging my tongue along my bottom lip, I fidget with the seatbelt across my waist. “We went out earlier.”

Alex’s brows go up. “Yeah. With my mother. I don’t usually like taking girls out to third wheel it with me and my mom.”

“That’s probably smart.”

“Just so we’re clear, I usually don’t let women meet my mom on the first date either,” he adds nonchalantly.

“Do you make them wait until the second?”

“At least the third,” he muses to play along with the lighthearted banter. He sobers. “But I’m being serious right now. Give me one reason why we shouldn’t go on have dinner.”

I think about it. “Because we just ate pretzels,” I say lamely.

“They sure as hell didn’t fill me up. Are you trying to tell me you can’t possibly eat another bite?”

My lips twitch. “Well…”

“It doesn’t have to be dinner,” he tells me before I can come up with another excuse. “We could grab drinks, unless that Coke put you past your daily liquid capacity.”

I eye him. “I just… Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Why the hell wouldn’t it be?”

“Because we could be seen.”

He blinks slowly. “Are you trying to hide me, Olive? I feel like some sort of man candy that you’re ashamed of.”

He’s kidding, right? “Don’t be ridiculous. If anything, it’s the other way around.”

Now his eyes are narrowed in disapproval. “I don’t want to hear you say that shit. I’m the one asking you out on a very public date. You’re the one resisting.”

I sigh. “It’s not because ofyou. I was just all over social media because I was seen out with Bodhi, and we both know what those comments said. Can you imagine if another picture surfaced of me out with you? Everybody would think I’m some sort of puck bunny. I don’t feel like being called a whore again anytime soon.”

His face darkens. “You won’t be. I’ll make damn sure of it.”

Oh damn. He’s using that husky, serious voice that goes right to my lady bits. Not fair. “I appreciate that, but you don’t control what people post online. The keyboard warriors always have something to say.”

“No, but Icancontrol the narrative.” When he sees that I’m not backing down, he compromises. “I know a place that’s private. The guys go there all the time. It’s quiet. There’s a back entrance and a VIP section. Go out with me, Olive. Don’t let those assholes win. Do what you want to. Because I think youwantto get dinner with me. I think you want to do a hell of a lot more.”

I don’t allow myself to blush. “What makes you so sure?”

His eyes spark. “Because you drove all this way to see me, and we both know it’s not just to make sure I’m resting. If anything, you’re probably going to help me do the exact opposite. Because you’ll be in my bed.”

Dear baby Jesus in a manger.Yep. Ovaries activated. “Maybe I plan on sleeping on the couch.”