The Longest Ride

think,” he countered, “that I could say the same thing about you.”

10

    Luke
    E ven after studying the menu, he wasn’t sure what to order. He knew he could have gone with something safe – like the chicken or beef teriyaki she’d mentioned – but he was reluctant to do that. He’d heard people rave about sushi and knew he should try it. Life was about experience, wasn’t it?

The problem was that he didn’t have the slightest idea what to choose. To his mind, raw fish was raw fish, and the pictures didn’t help at all. As far as he could tell, he was supposed to order either the reddish one or the pinkish one or the whitish one, none of which hinted at how it might taste.

He peeked at Sophia over the top of his menu. She’d applied a bit more mascara and lipstick than she had on the day she’d come out to the ranch, reminding him of the night he’d first seen her. It seemed impossible that it had been less than a week ago. While generally a fan of natural beauty, he had to admit the makeup added a sophisticated touch to her features. On their way to the table, more than one man had turned to watch her pass.

“What’s the difference between nigiri-sushi and maki-sushi?” he asked.

Sophia was still perusing the menu as well. When the waitress had come by, she’d ordered two Sapporos, a Japanese beer, one for each of them. He had no idea how that would taste, either. “Nigiri means the fish is served on a pad of rice,” she said. “Maki means it’s rolled with seaweed.”

“Seaweed?”

She winked. “It’s good. You’ll like it.”

He compressed his lips, unable to hide his doubts. Beyond the windows, there were people at tables inside, enjoying whatever it was they’d ordered, all of them adept with their chopsticks. At least he was okay at that, his skills honed from eating Chinese food from thin cardboard boxes while on the road.

“Why don’t you go ahead and order for me,” he said, putting the menu aside. “I trust you.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“What am I going to try?”

“A bunch of things,” she said. “We’ll try some anago, ahi, aji, hamachi… maybe some others.”

He lifted his bottle, about to take a sip. “You do realize that sounds like gibberish to me.”

“Anago is eel,” she clarified.

The bottle froze in midair. “Eel?”

“You’ll like it,” she assured him, not bothering to hide her amusement.

When the waitress came by, Sophia rambled off the order like an expert; then they settled into easy conversation, interrupted only when their meal arrived. He gave her an abbreviated overview of his childhood, which despite his chores at the ranch had been fairly typical. His high school years included varsity wrestling for three years, all four homecoming dances, both proms, and a handful of memorable parties. He told her that in the summers, he and his parents would take the horses up to the mountains near Boone for a few days, where they’d go trail riding, the only family vacations they ever took. He talked a bit about his practices on the mechanical bull in the barn and how his father had tinkered with the bull to make the motion even more violent. The practice sessions had started when he was still in elementary school, his father critiquing his every move. He mentioned some of the injuries he’d suffered over the years and described the nerves he felt when riding in the PBR World Championships – once, he’d been in the running for the championship until the final ride, only to finish third overall – and through it all, Sophia listened raptly, interrupting him only occasionally to ask questions.

He felt the laserlike focus that she trained on him, absorbing every detail, and by the time the waitress had removed their plates, everything about her, from her easy laughter to her slight but discernible northern accent, struck him as charming and desirable. More than that, he felt like he could truly be himself despite their differences. When he was with her, he found it easy to forget the stress he felt whenever he thought about the ranch. Or his mom. Or what was going to happen if his plans didn’t work out…

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, it took a moment before he realized she was staring at him.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Why?”

“You looked almost… lost there for a minute.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure? I hope it wasn’t the anago.”

“No. Just thinking about what I have to do before I