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“Oh,” I said. She didn’t look thirty-eight, but I’d never been a good judge of people’s ages. “That’s still not middle aged.”

“What is middle age?”

“At least forty-five,” I said.

That made her laugh. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

I got a better look at her outfit when we walked into Nick’s and got in line. She wore black joggers and a gray T-shirt that was thin and tight, not leaving much to my imagination. Casual, but sexy.

“I didn’t get a chance to say so earlier, but you look really nice,” she said.

“Thanks. So do you,” I said, blushing again.

Nick’s was packed, and I didn’t know where the hell we were going to sit.

“It’s probably a fifteen-minute wait,” a server said to us on the way to drop off a few plates.

“We don’t have to eat here,” I said. “We could get it to go and take it somewhere else.”

“That works,” she said, and I snagged us some menus.

“This is a novel,” Ryan said, turning the pages.

“What are you in the mood for? The eggplant parmesan is superb, as is the spinach and artichoke pizza. My parents get the everything pizza, which is good too. Or if you’re in the mood for something else, the seasonal salad is massive,” I said.

“Chicken pot pie pizza?” Ryan said, her voice skeptical.

“That one’s better when it’s cold,” I said, and she shook her head.

“I think I’ll take your word for it on that one. What are you going to get?” she asked.

The line moved as Nick efficiently took orders, yelling back to his husband Tony, who was in charge of the kitchen.

“I’m feeling the barbecue chicken tonight with a side salad. How do you feel about cheeseburger sliders as an appetizer?” I asked her.

“Sounds delicious,” she said.

We finally got up to order and Ryan smoothly told Nick that our orders were together, leaving no room for me to protest as she continued to speak, ordering the everything pizza.

“Just so you know, it’s so weighted down with toppings, you have to eat it with a fork,” I told her.

“Noted,” she said.

We stepped aside to wait for our order and Ryan leaned against the wall her gaze flicking around the room, as if she was taking everything in.

“I know your secret,” I said. She gave me her full attention, turning her whole body toward me.

“What secret is that?” she asked, crossing her arms. Momentarily stunned by those arms, it took me a second to remember what I’d been about to say.

“Sydney told me who you are. Who your family is,” I said.

She raised her eyebrows. “And?”

“And I know. I guess that’s it.” Why had I brought this up? Now I’d just made things awkward.

“That’s it?” she asked.

“Yeah. I know you weren’t like, hiding it or anything, but I figured you’d probably wanted to keep it quiet here,” I said, moving closer to her as a family with at least five kids stepped over to wait for a table.