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side. “You were great. If anyone asks, I discovered you. Don’t forget to collect your fifty dollar bill.”
    What the eff? All that sweating was worth only fifty dollars? Before I can comment, Clicky sweeps me into his arms and kisses me. Oh, wonderful. Not. I’m sure my mother, father, two sisters and a brother are watching with extreme disapproval.
    I’m ripped back by a strong grip. Romeo throws a fist and Clicky is on the floor holding his jaw. The crowd gasps in horror and shock, some holding cell phone cameras while others point and gawk.
    “She’s mine.” Romeo grunts like a twenty-first century caveman and leads me away, pushing and cutting through the crowd.
    He straddles his bike. “Get on.”
    Can we use words instead of fists? And more than two words at a time?
    “Where?” I can’t spare words either. I shove the helmet over my head and mount in back of him.
    “Vegan Palace.”

Chapter 8
    “Hold it a second.” I yank Romeo’s shoulder as soon as we arrive in the Vegan Palace parking lot and remove our helmets.
    “What?” He tilts his head at the green carved wooden doors. “You wanted vegan.”
    “I’m not going in there all hot and pissed off.” I unzip my onerous leather jacket and fan the damp camisole underneath.
    “Then, don’t be pissed.” His eyes crinkle with lustful delight. “Wow, you’ve really filled in.”
    That was really inappropriate. Clue to Romeo. Never comment on a woman’s body as being filled in.
    I huff and wipe the sweat off my nose. “I’m not sure what’s going on. We’re practically strangers and we’re fighting like we mean something. You didn’t have to punch that guy.”
    “You didn’t have to kiss him.”
    “I didn’t kiss him. He kind of surprised me,” I mumble even though no explanation is needed. “And please, spare the caveman act.”
    I step off the bike and walk away from him.
    “This isn’t an act.” He grabs my arm and pulls me close. “I want to make it work this time.”
    “Huh?” My stomach chooses this moment to growl. Make what work? Is he talking about a hot torrid affair or something more emotional?
    Romeo tips my chin and lays a kiss on my compliant lips. “We can talk all evening, but right now, let’s get some cattle grub.”
    “Doesn’t sound so healthy when you put it that way.” I follow Romeo into the Garden of Vegetarian Delight. Yes, there’s a cheesy sign with a laughing goddess pointing the way. Water fountains trickle amongst statues of frogs, fairies, and dolphins. The hostess asks if we want patio seating. Romeo looks at me and I readily agree.
    It isn’t until I’m finally seated across the table, a small, intimate table lit with a single candlelight, that the nerves hit me, literally flooring me. The past few days seem unreal, like a movie on fast forward. Event, drama, action, yelling, drama, cut!
    I’m actually on a date with Romeo, the boy who buried himself in my heart the first day of kindergarten when he gave me a yellow dandelion. Romeo, who wiped me with a napkin in second grade when I threw up on the bus. Romeo, who pledged his love to me in sixth grade by giving me his holographic Charizard Pokemon card. But once we hit junior high school, we went underground, as if we knew our parents would disapprove, and we’d sneak kisses behind the bungalows, cut class to smoke, and ride down to the beach on his motorbike.
    My hands shake, growing clammy. My throat tightens and my heart skips many beats. I sip ice water while cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. It’s the first time since running into him at my parent’s restaurant that I’m getting a really good look at him. And he’s movie star handsome, because dunce that I am, he is a movie star. Okay, a low budget drama star, but still, this guy acts for a living.
    Mr. Big Movie Star reaches over and rubs my hands. “They’re cold. Are you okay?”
    “Doing fine.” I have difficulty swallowing, even though his hands are warm and