"God, you are such a liar! I am not a fussy eater," I exclaim, giggling as I walk back into the motel room.

Tristan laughs as he closes the door behind us. "I'm pretty sure the waiter filled up a whole page on the way you wanted your pad thai served. And don't even get me started on that cocktail you ordered. Who asks for a different slice of fruit to go with the drink?"

"What's wrong with asking for a piece of orange instead of pineapple?"

"It was a pineapple ...