The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

The diner was called Riverbend Grill, tucked off a side road beside a gas station and a little row of shops with dark windows. It had red booths, hanging lights, and a chalkboard sign near the entrance advertising pie.

The parking lot had a few trucks, two minivans, and one old blue car with a dented bumper.

No Briarwick stickers.

No cheer bows.

No Prescott parents.

Roxie sat in the passenger seat for a second after Zac parked.

He turned off the engine but didn’t get out.

"You okay?"

She looked at the diner windows.

Inside, an older man was paying at the counter. A waitress carried plates to a family near the back. A little girl in a pink sweater was dipping fries in ranch.

Normal.

So painfully normal it made Roxie’s throat feel tight.

"Yeah," she said.

Zac watched her. "We can go somewhere else."

"No."

"Roxie."

"I said no." She swallowed. "I’m fine."

His eyes moved over her face.

She hated that he was getting better at reading her.

"I’m nervous," she admitted.

The words came out smaller than she liked.

Zac’s expression softened. "About eating?"

"About being seen."

He looked at the diner, then back at her. "We’re forty minutes from Briarwick."

"People travel."

"People also eat fries and mind their business."

"That sounds fake."

He smiled a little. "I’ll sit facing the door."

"That doesn’t fix anything."

"It lets me see if anyone comes in."

Roxie stared at him.

He shrugged. "I’m helpful."

"You’re paranoid."

"You like that about me."

He grinned and got out.

By the time he came around to her side, Roxie had already opened her door because she refused to be fully princessed in a diner parking lot.

Zac looked disappointed.

She raised a brow. "Were you going to open my door?"

"I thought about it."

"Control yourself."

"I’m trying. It’s hard."

They walked toward the diner.

His hand brushed hers once.

Then again.

Roxie looked at it.

Zac did too.

Neither of them reached first.

That was ridiculous.

They had kissed. Fought. He had held her in her kitchen. She had said yes to being his girlfriend.

Still, holding hands in a parking lot made her heart act like it had no training.

Zac’s fingers touched hers again.

This time, he caught them.

Loose at first.

Asking without saying it.

Roxie looked around fast.

A man was pumping gas across the lot. A woman was buckling a toddler into a car seat. Nobody looked at them.

Zac waited.

Roxie let her fingers slide between his.

His hand closed around hers.

Warm.

Big.

Steady.

Her stomach dipped.

Zac looked ahead, but his mouth betrayed him. It curved like he was trying to keep the smile private and failing.

Roxie looked at him. "Don’t make it weird."

"I didn’t say anything."

"Your face did."

"My face is happy."

"Tell it to calm down."

"No."

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t let go.

The bell over the diner door jingled when they walked in.

Warm air hit them. Grease, coffee, sugar, and something fried. Roxie’s stomach tightened in immediate betrayal.

A waitress behind the counter looked up. "Two?"

Zac glanced at Roxie.

She nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Two."

The word sounded too normal.

Two.

Like they were allowed.

The waitress led them to a booth near the window. Zac let Roxie slide in first, then sat across from her.

Roxie immediately checked the room.

Old couple near the window.

Family in the back.

Man at the counter.

Two women in scrubs sharing fries.

Roxie breathed easier.

Zac watched her over the menu. "Clear?"

She kicked him lightly under the table.

He smiled. "I’m taking that as yes."

The waitress brought water.

Roxie took a sip too fast and almost choked.

Zac’s brows lifted.

"Don’t," she warned.

"I didn’t."

"You were about to."

"I respect athletes."

"You better."

The menu had too many choices.

Burgers. Chicken tenders. Pancakes all day. Fries. Milkshakes. Pie.

Roxie stared at it like it was a test.

Zac leaned back. "What do you want?"

"Food."

"Great. We narrowed it down."

"I’m thinking."

"You want chicken tenders."

Roxie looked up. "How do you know?"

"You always steal fries and chicken off other people’s plates when you think no one notices."

"I do not."

"You stole half Angela’s fries last week."

"She offered, and she was the one who taught me."

Zac smiled.

She narrowed her eyes. "You watch me too much."

"I’m your boyfriend. It’s in the job description."

The word hit her.

Boyfriend.

Roxie looked down at the menu fast.

Her face warmed.

Zac went quiet.

When she glanced up, he was looking at her with that soft expression again.

The one that made her want to throw a napkin at him.

"Chicken tenders," she said softly.

The waitress came back, saving her from whatever face she was making.

Roxie ordered chicken tenders and fries. Zac ordered a burger, fries, and two milkshakes.

Roxie looked at him after the waitress left. "Two?"

"You need celebration sugar."

"I am an athlete."

"You won third place."

"I qualified for state."

"Exactly. Celebration sugar."

Zac rested his arms on the table.

His hand was near hers.

Roxie looked at it.

He noticed.

Slowly, he turned his palm up.

No pressure.

No words.

Just there.

Her heart thudded.

She checked the diner again.

Still strangers.

Still nobody caring.

The old couple near the window was talking softly over coffee. The woman had silver hair pinned back neatly. The man wore a brown jacket and kept stealing fries from her plate while pretending he wasn’t.

Roxie looked back at Zac’s hand.

Then placed hers in it.

His fingers closed around hers.

Across the table.

In public.

Her breath caught.

Zac’s thumb moved once over her knuckles.

"Too much?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head.

Her voice would have betrayed her.

He smiled, but softer now. Like he understood this was bigger than it looked.

They sat that way until the milkshakes came.

The waitress set them down with two straws and a smile. Roxie tried to pull her hand back, but Zac held for half a second longer.

Just enough.

Then he let go.

Her hand felt cold without his, which annoyed her more than it should have.

The milkshake was chocolate and ridiculous.

Roxie took one sip and closed her eyes before she could stop herself.

Zac grinned. "Good?"

"Shut up."

"That good?"

"I said shut up."

He laughed, then pushed his fries toward the middle when the food came.

She stared. "What are you doing?"

"Preventing theft."

"I wasn’t going to steal."

"You were already planning it."

"Lies."

"Eat."

She ate.

For a while, that was all they did.

Eat.

Talk about stupid things.

Mason almost bringing a sign but Dylan confiscating it.

Karen crying and threatening violence if anyone mentioned it.

Angela crying because everyone else cried.

Zac listened like every detail mattered.

That was the thing about him when he was good.

He made it easy to keep talking.

Roxie stole three fries.

He said nothing.

On the fourth, he caught her wrist.

She froze.

His thumb rested over her pulse.

"Ask," he said.

She narrowed her eyes. "For a fry?"

"Yes."

"I will die first."

"Dramatic."

"You love it."

His eyes lifted to hers.

The smile faded into something quieter.

"Yeah," he said.

Roxie’s hand went still in his.

Her pulse kicked under his thumb.

The noise of the diner seemed to move farther away.

She looked at him across the table.

Really looked.

Roxie swallowed.

"Don’t look at me like that in public," she said.

His mouth curved. "Why?"

"Because people will know."

"That I like you?"

Her face warmed. "Zac."

He leaned forward a little. "I do."

She kicked him again under the table, lighter this time.

He caught her hand properly and laced their fingers together on top of the table.

Roxie looked around fast.

The old woman near the window was watching them.

Roxie stiffened.

Zac noticed.

"What?"

"Someone’s looking."

Zac followed her gaze.

The old woman smiled.

Roxie wanted to disappear under the table.

The woman leaned toward her husband and whispered something. The old man looked over too.

Great.

Perfect.

Witnesses.

Roxie started pulling her hand back, but Zac held it gently.

"Relax," he said.

"I am relaxed."

"You look like you’re about to testify."

The old woman smiled wider, then spoke across the aisle.

"You two remind me of us."

Roxie froze.

Zac looked at the couple.

The old man chuckled and lifted his coffee. "She means when we were young and thought everyone cared if we held hands."

The old woman tapped his arm. "Everyone did care. You were just too stubborn to notice."

Zac smiled. "How long have you been together?"

The old woman looked at her husband.

Her face softened in a way that made Roxie’s chest ache.

"Fifty-one years married," she said. "Fifty-four if you count the time my father was running after him with a gun."

Zac’s eyes flicked to Roxie.

He smiled into his milkshake.

The old man pointed at him. "Hold her hand. Girls like that even when they act annoyed."

Roxie’s mouth opened.

The old woman laughed. "You’re lucky I tolerated you."

Zac’s thumb moved over Roxie’s knuckles.

Roxie wanted to die.

She covered her face with her free hand. "This is humiliating."

The old woman’s voice softened. "Enjoy it, sweetheart. Normal days matter more than you think."

Roxie’s smile faded a little.

Normal days.

She had so few of them.

Her throat tightened.

Zac’s grin softened too, like he heard the change even before she said anything.

He looked back at the old couple. "Thank you."

The old man nodded. "Take care of each other."

Roxie stared at the table.

Take care of each other.

She felt Zac’s fingers tighten gently around hers.

The old couple returned to their coffee and fries.

Roxie glanced at Zac. "If you turn into that old man and steal my fries for fifty years, I’m leaving you."

Zac’s smile came back. "Fifty years?"

Her face went hot.

Wrong thing to say.

Wrong, wrong thing.

Zac leaned forward, looking delighted. "Roxie Jones."

"Shut up."

"I think it’s too early for marriage."

"Shut up."

Zac looked like he had won state himself.

Roxie grabbed a fry and pointed it at him. "Say one more word."

He pressed his lips together.

His eyes were laughing.

She ate the fry angrily.

He still looked happy.

That made her happy.

Which made her annoyed.

Outside, the sky had turned dark. The diner sign glowed red against the window. The cold air hit her face, and she tucked her hands into her jacket sleeves.

Zac walked beside her toward the car.

Their shoulders brushed.

Then his hand found hers again.

Easier this time.

Roxie let him.

At the passenger side, he stopped beside her door.

The parking lot was quiet except for a car passing on the road and the low hum of the diner sign.

Roxie looked up at him. "This was weird."

Zac smiled. "Good weird?"

She thought about lying.

Then she didn’t.

"Yeah."

His smile softened.

He leaned down and kissed her.

A peck.

Quick.

Sweet.

Right there in public.

Roxie’s heart kicked hard.

She glanced around after, but slower this time.

Nobody cared.

The old couple was leaving the diner, the man holding the door while the woman scolded him for moving too slow.

Zac saw where she was looking.

His hand slipped around hers again.

"Still nervous?" he asked.

"Yes."

"But?"

Roxie looked at their hands.

Then at him.

"But I liked it."

His smile went soft enough to hurt.

"Good."

She rolled her eyes because she had to.

Then she stepped closer and kissed him back.

This one lasted a little longer.

Still public enough to make her pulse race.

When she pulled away, Zac’s face was close, his breath warm against her cheek.

"You’re my girlfriend," he said quietly.

Roxie’s throat tightened.

She looked toward the diner, then the road, then back at him.

"Secret girlfriend," she said.

His thumb brushed her hand.

"Tonight felt less secret."

Her chest hurt.

Scary.

Warm.

True.

Roxie squeezed his fingers once.

"Yeah," she said. "A little."

Zac opened the car door for her this time.

She let him.

Only because she was tired.

And because she had won third place.

And because, for one normal night far from Briarwick, being with him felt easy.

She got wins, no doubt, even if life keeps throwing her shit.