Page 41 of The Disasters of Dating (Love Connections #6)

He looks over and grimaces, slowing his pace. “Sorry. We have a reservation. But we have enough time that I don’t need to drag you along.”

“Where are we going that we need a reservation?”

He lifts his brows. “It’s a secret.”

“Why?” I ask in suspicion.

“Because secrets are fun.” He replies .

I shake my head. “Maybe for the secreter. But for the secretee, not so much.”

He stops and stares down at me. “What in the heck are a secreter and secretee?”

I give him a duh look. I mean, it’s totally obvious, right? “The secreter is the one with the secret. And the secretee is the one the secret is being kept from. No one likes to be the secretee. Trust me.”

He drops his head back and laughs. “Oh, man, Sprite. You’re the best.”

I look at him with a creased brow. “Sprite?”

He frowns. “Yeah. I was going for a cute nickname, but I can see now that was a mistake.”

“No, it’s not a mistake. I was wondering how you decided on Sprite.”

He lifts a shoulder and looks uncomfortable. “You know, Poppy, Pops, soda pop, Sprite. It seemed natural when I thought of it. But now that I say it out loud, I can see it’s not.”

I have an overwhelming urge to reach up and kiss him. Maybe even jump up and wrap my legs around him so I can get a better angle on his lips.

But I refrain. Mostly.

I do reach up and kiss him, but only on the cheek. “I think Sprite is a great nickname, Keaton.”

As I come back down, he slides his hands around my waist and holds me close to him. He’s staring down at me, and I think I may get my wish after all. Not the wrap my legs around him but the kiss. And not just a cheek one.

I’m telepathically telling him it’s okay.

“If it’s such a great nickname, why the third degree?”

I tip my head back so I can fully see his face. “My family has called me Soda for as long as I can remember. Everyone else sticks with Pops. I wondered if you came to it the same way my family did. Or if it was because I order Sprite whenever I don’t drink water.”

He smiles and drops a kiss on my forehead. It’s more of a grandma or grandpa kind of kiss. How very disappointing. Although, can you have a very romantic kiss in the middle of a parking garage? Probably not.

He steps back and retakes my hand. “Okay, Sprite. Now we do have to hurry.”

I can’t believe we went to Flannery’s. It was delicious and so very expensive. As we walk around the planetarium, waiting for our show to begin, I’m stuffed. And grateful we have a few minutes before we have to sit down.

“Look at this,” I point to a low, round table in the middle of the third floor. It’s all black with what looks like water sitting in the bottom and a clear plastic lid on top.

“What is it?” Keaton looks down.

“Just wait,” I say as I watch the little conveyor belt on the side move forward with dozens of varying smallish-sized white pieces.

They move forward, and one by one drop into the water.

Smoky mists furrow around each piece as they zip around the table.

“Oh, look at that one. I think it’s going to collide with that one.

” I tap the tabletop. Sure enough, they collide and form a bigger piece.

“Is that dry ice?” Keaton asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

“This is the coolest thing I’ve seen in a long time.” He stares down, watching the pieces as they get smaller and smaller, until they disappear. Soon, only the black-looking water is left.

“I wish I could get one of these as a coffee table,” I smile as another batch drops into the water and starts zipping around. “Although I don’t think I’d ever accomplish anything or actually have any conversations because I would watch this all day.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of hypnotic.”

My phone starts playing “No One Is to Blame” by Howard Jones. “It’s time to go to the show,” I say.

Keaton, still watching the dry ice, lifts a hand. “Just a second. It’s almost over.”

I go over and take his hand. “Come on.” I tug on his arm.

He doesn’t budge.

Hmm. This may take a stronger hand.

I’ll show him what happens when he ignores me. Raising up on my tiptoes, I put my hands on his cheeks and turn his head toward me. It’s harder than I would have thought, because he’s still watching the dry ice.

But as soon as my lips find his, I have his full attention. His hands slide around my waist, but I pull away and take a step back. “Now that I have your attention. It’s time for our show.” I smile sweetly at him .

He frowns and his eyes look hungry. I may have created an even greater distraction to keep us from the show on time.

He reaches for me. “Oh, you started something, Miss Ashcombe. And I think it only right you finish it.”

I grin and pull away from him. “But our show. I was just trying to get you to come.”

“It plays three times a week, every week. We can catch another one.” He takes a step toward me.

I laugh and take a step back. “What if I promise to finish what I started after the show?”

“Is AC/DC that important to you?” He quirks up a brow.

“No. But we came all this way and paid for the tickets. I don’t think we should waste your money.”

“But it’s my money. I’ll waste it if I want to.” He gives me a look. “That was not very kind of you.”

“I know. But drastic times called for drastic measures.”

He crosses his arms and stares at me. “I want a good faith down payment that you will finish what you started.”

I cross my arms and jut out my hip. “What kind of good faith down payment?”

“I get a small kiss—you know, to tide me over.”

“But I already gave you that. It should totally count.” I’m trying to hide my grin and calm my thundering heartbeat.

“Sorry, it didn’t count.” He taps his watch face. “Times a tickin’, Sprite.”

“Hey, I don’t think you can use my cute nickname when you are extorting kisses.”

He grins. “Tick tock. Tick tock.”

I narrow my eyes at him and close the distance between us. “Fine, but I’d like it recorded that I’m doing this under protest.”

He lifts a brow. “Protest?”

“Objection?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“Tepid disapproval?”

He laughs as he reaches out and pulls me to him, holding me close. Looking down at me, he tsks. “I don’t think there’s a tepid bone in your body, Poppy.”

“Maybe you don’t know me very well.” My voice has dropped to almost a whisper.

“That’s something I plan to remedy.” He drops his head and places a kiss on the tip of my nose. Then he takes a step back .

My mouth drops open, and I’m visibly shaking. “But...” I stammer.

“Now you know how it feels.” He grins wickedly and takes a step toward the stairs.

“You rogue!” I call to his back.

He stops and turns around. “Did you just call me a rogue?”

I nod. “Indeed, I did.”

He takes a step forward and grabs me by the hand.

With one forceful tug, his arms are around me, and his lips are covering mine.

I’ve never been kissed quite so thoroughly in such a public location—not even the kiss cam kiss was so…

thorough. When we pull a part, I’m not quite sure what to say.

Or what to do with my hands. Or how to calm down my breathing.

It’s like I’ve run here from the Capitol building.

He takes my hand and winks at me. “I think I rather like being a rogue. Now, shall we find our seats in the theater?”

I nod mechanically as I slowly run my tongue over my lips. That was not, in anyway, how I pictured my diversion turning out. But I wouldn’t take it back for anything.