We entered the restaurant and I was pleasantly surprised to find the outside did not reflect the inside. The interior was straight-up country diner, with red checkered tablecloths and everything. Cute little salt and pepper shakers adorned each table, along with red and yellow squeezy bottles for ketchup and mustard. It was clean, adorable, and the waitress who approached us was all smiles.

   “Elliot, didn’t think you’d be around after classes let out.” She was a round woman in her mid-forties, wearing a waitress uniform you’d imagine someone in a movie wearing: blue dress, white ruffled apron, and a pad of paper and pen sticking out of its pocket.

   “Well, I promised Evelyn here a breakfast date before we both left town.”

   The waitress, whose nametag read Marianne, turned her attention to me and said, “Lucky girl,” with what sounded like affection. She grabbed two menus and we followed her to a booth where Elliot and I sat across from each other. After we’d ordered our drinks and Marianne left us, I attempted to make small talk.

   “So, why does the waitress know your name?”

   He smiled and then responded. “The frat house can be a hard place to study. It gets loud and the guys aren’t always willing to quiet down so I can cram for a test.” He shrugged. “It’s just part of frat life. Anyway, this place is open twenty-four hours and they’re really cool about letting me study here, you know, as long as I order some food and stuff.”

   “So, you’re here a lot.”

   “You could say that. Plus, you can’t get biscuits and gravy like theirs anywhere else. In fact, I’m gonna miss this place over the summer.” He smiled again, and then laughed softly. “I’m not sure who I’m kidding; I’ll probably drive down once or twice just for the food.”

   “How far away do you live?” I asked, curious about him.

   “I’m about two hours north of here, in Bakersfield. What about you? Where are you headed tomorrow?”

   “Liv and I are from Portsmouth, about three hours east.”

   “Well, that’s good news.”

   “What is?” I asked, confused.

   “That you’re not getting on a plane or going somewhere really far away.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, typing furiously with this thumbs. Finally, he held his phone up, screen pointing at me, and I saw what looked to be a page from Google Maps. “See, look. If I take the bypass it’s only a three hour and forty-five minute drive to your town.”

   My cheeks blushed at the thought of Elliot driving nearly four hours to see me. No one had ever made such an effort. “Don’t you have some girl back home waiting for you?” I couldn’t imagine someone as charming and courteous as Elliot without a band of girls vying for his attention. He gave a small cough at my question; apparently, I’d struck a nerve.

   “No one’s waiting for me, no. My high school girl friend will probably be home for summer, but we haven’t been together in over two years. She’s moved on, so have I. But, we have the same friends, so I’m sure I’ll be seeing her.”

   “Elliot, I was kidding. You don’t owe me any explanations.”

   At my words he reached across the table and took my hand in his, gently squeezing it. “I might not owe you an explanation, but I want to give it to you anyway.” Then he shrugged and laced his fingers with mine. “Last night wasn’t just some hook up. I’ve wanted to ask you out for weeks. I totally understand if you want to just say goodbye today, and maybe see each other in the fall, but I’m kind of hoping I can see you this summer.”

   I swallowed thickly, a little caught off guard by his declaration. “I’d like that.”

   A gorgeous smile spread slowly across his face, his brilliantly white teeth showing, eyes sparkling. “Great,” he said confidently. I couldn’t help but smile back at him, it was impossible to resist.

   The rest of our breakfast date was effortless and comfortable. We ate, laughed, shared about our families, and talked about plans for the summer. He was genuinely interested in whatever it was I had to say. He listened with rapt attention, laughing when appropriate, smiling, and nodding. Listening. Aside from Liv, I’d never felt so comfortable talking to someone.

   We sat at our table for hours, Marianne never making us feel like we had to leave, even though we took up a table for the entire lunch rush. Elliot never stopped touching me. When we ate, his foot pressed up against mine under the table. When we talked, his hand was holding mine, his thumb making soft circles on the inside of my wrist. His touch slowly built a fire inside of me, and by the time we decided to leave the diner, I could hardly wait to be alone with him in the privacy of the cab of his truck.

   We took a to-go order for Liv, which I still thought was incredibly sweet of him, and he helped me into the passenger side of his truck. I placed Liv’s food on the bench seat nearest my door, and scooted more toward the middle. I watched as Elliot opened his door, reaching in, grasping the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearm rippling. Then, suddenly, he was next to me. Strong biceps pressed into my shoulder. The hand that had just been gripping the wheel landed softly on my leg just above my knee.

   My eyes darted to where his hand made contact, and then slowly made their way to meet his gaze.

   “Thank you for breakfast,” I said, as my sight wandered to his lips.

   “It was more like brunch,” he said, his lips lifting into another beautiful smile.

   “Thank you for brunch,” I acquiesced. He nodded slightly, and then I saw his free hand rise. He pushed some wayward hair behind my ear, and then his large hand slid around to the back of my neck, gripping me there softly, but with just enough force to take my breath away completely.

   “I’m going to kiss you now.” His voice was low, his smile had disappeared, and in its place was a serious expression, one of longing.

   “Okay,” was all I could manage before his impossibly soft lips touched mine.

   I breathed in his kiss, taking everything from him in that moment. My hands pressed against his chest, slowly folding my fingers around the soft cotton of his shirt, pulling myself as close to him as I could. The night before, our kisses had been passionate and new, exciting and hurried. But in that moment, with hours of conversation and laughter between us, we were connecting on another level.

   His hand slid slowly up from my knee, smoothing over the bare skin beneath my skirt, but only came to grip the fleshiest part of my thigh, inches below the elastic of my panties. I didn’t want to go any further, sitting in a restaurant parking lot at a diner, but a large part of me wanted to know what it would feel like to have his hands all over me, his fingers inside of me. A flash of heat climbed through me at the thought of him being inside of me at all, and I pulled him closer.

   When we finally pulled away from each other, we were both panting. He rested his forehead against mine and his hand came back up to frame my face.

   “I foresee myself coming to visit you a lot this summer.”

   I smiled, and then pressed a small kiss against his lips. “I foresee myself enjoying that a lot.”

   “I hate to even tear myself away from you, but I think we should get going. Another kiss like that, and I’ll lose my mind.”

   Laughing, I disentangled myself from him, sliding carefully toward the center of the bench, but before I got too far, his hand was back on my leg. This time, though, his fingers were higher up and just barely under the hem of my skirt. Just the sight sent shivers up my spine and goose bumps along my thigh. Whether or not he noticed, I’d never know, but his thumb grazed the sensitive skin all the way back to my dorm.

   When he pulled up to my dorm, a wave of sadness washed over me. Why had he waited so long to make his move? Now it was summer and we were both headed in different directions. The excitement of new romance was being squashed by our separation.