I flush and look down at my hands. “Yeah, I really don’t eat enough.”

“Why is that?”

I jerk my head up. “Oh. No reason.”

Jack studies me as a waitress approaches our table. “Jack, nice to see you,” she smiles, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

God.

Does every woman in this place know him?

“Hey, Penny. How are you?” he asks.

“Good, now,” she practically croons.

Gag.

“This is my friend Baylee,” he says, eyes swinging over to me.

Penny, who is a very attractive redhead, looks to me and her mouth tightens just slightly. “Nice to meet you.”

I smile and give her a pathetic wave, just as my stomach grumbles again. Jack grins at me, and leans closer, murmuring, “You one of those girls that is going to insist on nibbling on a salad even though I know you’re starving, or are you going to eat a burger with me?”

I hold his eyes. “Burger.”

He nods. “Good girl.”

He looks back to Penny. “Two cheeseburgers, fries, and two chocolate milkshakes, please.”

She writes that down then disappears. Jack turns to me, and I instantly say, “I thought you’d be drinking after being at a bar, not having a milkshake.”

He shrugs. “Good company calls for sacrifices.”

My heart flutters, but I keep my expression blank. “Bring all your girlfriends here, do you?”

He gives me a cheeky grin. “I’m a local. I grew up here. Everyone knows me. But yes, for your information ‘girl who isn’t interested’, I have brought a few girls here.”

I scrunch up my nose. He laughs.

“Tell me a story, Baylee.”

I shake my head in confusion. “A story?”

“Well, yeah, for my stalker books. I need something to work off when I’m peeking through your window.”

I roll my eyes. “What kind of story?”

“If we’re to progress to friends at some stage, you need to give me some information about you. I mean, you could be a stalker for all I know, and this is just your act.”

I snort. “Do you come up with this crap all on your own?”

He laughs. “Basically. So, tell me a story.”

I shake my head, but I can’t help the way my lip lifts up just a little in a poor attempt at a smile. His eyes drop to it, and he grins.

“I don’t really have a story,” I say, rubbing my hands together.

“Everyone has a story.”

“Then tell me one of yours.”

He leans his elbows on the table. “Okay, I’ll go first, you’re obviously shy.”

I raise my brows and he winks, again.

“I’m the son of a biker.”

A biker? A biker? Is he serious?

“Like ... leather jackets, ride motorbikes, scary looking bikers?”

He grunts. “Such a cliché!”

“Isn’t it correct, though?”

He thinks about that, then shrugs. “Yeah, probably. And yes, those bikers.”

“I wouldn’t pick it,” I say, then instantly retract my words. “Actually, now that I think of it ... yes, I would.”

“Because of my charm and good looks?” he wiggles his brows.

I huff, nearly a laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”

“My dad is a member of the Jokers’ Wrath MC.”

The Jokers’ Wrath. Seriously? Wow. Everyone knows them, I see the members around town all the time. They don’t seem to bother anyone, but I’ve never gotten close enough to find out, either.

“That’s definitely an unbeatable story,” I mumble. “Are you going to become a member?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I don’t want involvement in the club. I’m going to take a different path.”

Noble.

“Fair enough,” I say as the waitress places our meals and drinks down in front of us.

I’m so hungry.

So, so hungry.

I pick a fry off the plate and put it into my mouth. Jack does the same.

“So, what about you? What do you do?”

I shrug, eating another one before answering. “I work two jobs, just basic waitressing. I have ...” I hesitate. “I have my sister living with me. She’s young and pregnant.”

His brows go up as he chews. He swallows and then answers with, “Wow. That’s a big thing. You’re not that old yourself. Must be hard taking care of someone else, too.”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “When she has the baby, she’ll give it up for adoption. Pressure will be released then. It’ll get easier, I’m sure.”

“She doesn’t want to keep it?” he questions.

I shake my head. “She’s so young, and she’s just not ... She’s not fit.”

I don’t tell him about the drugs. It’s a hard subject to talk about with anyone. Let alone a random stranger.

“Well, she’s doing a good thing giving the baby to someone who can take care of it then, I guess.”

Oh, if only he knew.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

We tuck into our food, having basic conversation as we finish it up. When we’re done, I’m so full I can barely move. I groan as we stand and Jack still insists on driving me home.

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends,” I grumble as I practically waddle to his truck.

“Of course we are,” he says, opening a door for me. “You don’t get to choose.”

“I think I do,” I point out.

“I’ll win you over, all it’ll take is persistence, a good deal more stalking, and maybe more food.”

“Seriously, Jack,” I say, holding his eyes before I climb into the truck. “I’m not interested in anything right now. I know guys like you. I know what you want. I’m not that girl, and I’m warning you now, you won’t get anything that you’re expecting from me.”

He leans in close. “I get that. But we can be friends. You can never have too many friends.”

I study him. “You don’t seem like the type who can have just friends.”

He winks at me. “Well, for you, I’ll make an exception.”

I frown.

He shakes his head and laughs. “I hear you, Baylee. Friends only. You’re not interested in my smoking hot body, my devastatingly handsome face, or my ridiculous charm.”