Next to Me Read Online Free

twenty questions with anyone. As she was about to tell her this, the hostess walked up and interrupted.
    “Whitney, you have a single at table four.” The hostess didn’t look at her as she walked by after seating her. Nodding and happy to get away from the others, she walked over to the guy sitting at her table and tried to put on a genuine smile. It wasn’t hard once she got to the table because he was attractive. He had a full sleeve of tattoos on one arm and wore a T-shirt that said Don’t Tread on Me . His long hair was pushed back behind his ears and had an eyebrow ring that caught her eye as he looked up. When he smiled at her, the fake one she reserved for customers turned into a wide grin. She probably looked like a fool, but when she saw the motorcycle helmet sitting in the booth beside him, she was smitten. She loved motorcycles and riding them with hot guys. Breaking her own rule, she sat down across from him and put her pad on the table. She never sat with customers, she found it tacky, but this one deserved an exception.
    “Well, well, Whitney.” His voice was deep and appealing. “Looks like I came into the right restaurant.”
    Smiling and hoping she didn’t babble like an idiot, she said the only thing she could think of. “You have a motorcycle?” Genius, of course he does.
    He didn’t seem to mind her stupid question. “Yes I do. Do you like motorcycles?”
    “I love motorcycles.” Now she sounded dumb and way too enthusiastic. “What can I get you to drink?”
    “Do you have alcohol?” he said, looking at the menu.
    “Dry county, sorry.” She shrugged, hoping he didn’t leave because of it.
    “Good thing you’re here, or I would probably leave.” He raised an eyebrow at her as she became aware of the line of waitresses gawking at them from the station. “I’ll take a sweet tea, please.”
    She hopped up to go grab it and watched as the girls scurried to look like they weren’t trying to eavesdrop. She smiled as she grabbed his sweet tea, happy to have their attention for something other than her reputation. Looking down at the drab green shirt, black long skirt, and apron they wore, she wished she looked a little cuter, but he didn’t seem to notice, so she wouldn’t worry about it.
    When she came back to his table the manager was leaving and shook her head at her, which made her worry a bit.
    “What was that about?”
    “I told your manager that I shouldn’t have to eat alone, so she agreed to let you join me, and someone else will wait on us.” He smiled, causing Whitney to blush. This was a strange situation, and she knew the girls would absolutely hate waiting on her.
    “You’re crazy.” She stood by his table, holding onto the tea, waiting for him to tell her it was a joke, or someone to pop out and say they got her good. No one ever did.
    “Take off your apron, Whitney, and stay awhile.” Finally, she snapped out of it and sat down across from him after untying her apron and hoping that the skirt she donned was clean. No noticeable stains were visible and she was thankful for small miracles. She wondered how he knew her name until she remembered the nametag on her shirt, and was glad she didn’t ask. Breathing a sigh of relief that it was Sophie who came up to ask her what she wanted, she relaxed a bit. Sophie’s smiling ass wouldn’t be a bitch to her. She’d wait on them like anyone else.
    “So I know your name, don’t you want to know mine?” He fiddled with the corner of his menu, and she wondered if she made him as nervous as he made her.
    “I think you look like a Rex, Damian, or maybe a Trent.” He looked amused, and she wondered how close she was.
    “Close. My name is Walter. Walter Morris.” It was her turn to look amused. That was not the name she expected a man like him to have, and he was a man. She could tell he was at least ten years older than her and wondered if it would be rude to ask. “Not what you expected?” He sipped the sweet