He parks the car in front of a restaurant.
I raise a brow. "Are you meeting someone here?"
"I know that you haven't had breakfast. I can't drive you around on an empty stomach. Come on, let's go inside."
I don't know what to make of this. My fingers tremble slightly as I open my door and climb out. He's concerned about my well-being? Since when? He's really starting to freak me out. We both enter the restaurant and my mouth waters instantly. It smells like a piece of heaven in here.
This place isn't as chic as that bar we went to last time. There's a homey feel to it, like I'm sitting right in my mother's kitchen. From the dark wooden tables to the small metal chairs, everything about it screams rustic, comfort food. There are some framed Polaroids of smiling families. I'm at ease her
