Crepes. It was her answer to his simple question of what she wanted for breakfast. She pulled the seatbelt over her body and spoke the first thing that popped into her mind. The craving for a soft, sweet crepe; a raspberry vanilla cream crepe. Maybe it was her very specific answer that spurred the course of things or maybe it was just the way Dominic was. But it was a complete shock to her. When he said he knew a place she thought it was within city limits; not north of the border.

Toronto was a different kind of cold than she was used to but the double-face wool coat, sweater dress, leggings, and block-heel boots absolved the nip of the chill. A crisp breeze bit her face easing the muscles that had been getting a workout from the whirlwind of events. She had crepes and then some. They walked their breakfast down at Casa Loma exploring suites, tunnels, and gardens faking accents and personas when a cluster of people joined them along the way. Apparently, they worked off too much food or maybe it was because it was well past lunch. They ate to their heart's content at Campo; washing down pasta with Cabernet Sauvignon. They fell into a food coma taking refuge in the welcoming penthouse bed and worked all that regained energy gyrating at the best Caribbean clubs Canada had to offer.

"Where are we going?" He asked, putting the final touches on a formal email on his phone.

"Ah..." She sounded, matching his strides down the sidewalk or maybe he was matching hers. She didn't know exactly but they were going at a steady pace that didn't annoy the various people around them also enjoying the night out in the city. "I've never had poutine before so..."

He glanced over at her, "What? What's that?"

"You're kidding, right?" She narrowed her eyebrows, shocked at the confusion riddled on his face. He actually didn't know about the signature dish of the Great North. He probably wasn't a Degrassi watcher like her. "Well, Florida boy, it's french fries, cheese chords, and gravy."

"Gravy?" He said, making a face as he tapped send on his phone then returned his attention to her. "Gravy on French fries. I don't know about that."

"What's to know." She fanned out her arms excitedly, "Fries are potatoes and gravy tastes good on mashed potatoes."

"If you want to try it then we can try it or...." He casually said, slipping his phone into the pocket of his camel peacoat. "...we can go to this Trinidadian spot I know and have some crab 'n' dumplings, pelau, and pone."

She smirked. "You have another spot."

"I do." He grinned.

Then a thought donned on her remembering his previous question to her poutine suggestion. He'd been to Canada before. She swatted his arm as she neared the corner. "You liar. This isn't your first time here. You know what poutine is."

He chuckled and took hold of her hand as they crossed the street. "Okay. I've had it before." He interweaved their fingers; she wanted to take off the gloves so she could have his skin upon hers letting his heat warm her body instead. "But it's hard for me to say no to you."

"Sure." She playfully rolled her eyes as they strolled by storefronts, cafes, and restaurants that were lit and buzzing with life. "Right as if I'm your kryptonite."

The honking of a horn yanked her attention off of him. She missed the way his eyebrows crinkled from the thought that collected in his mind and his features softened.

"Why don't we do both." She turned back to him and called his sight to her with a squeeze of his hand. "Poutine can be our appetizer and then we can have dinner at your spot."

"I'm cool with that." He nodded then stopped their gait as they reached the corner.

She claimed the spot in front of him tilting her head interested in his urgent need to quit walking.

"What are you doing next week?" He asked, taking both of her hands.

She scanned her mind to the events of the upcoming week and remembered what day fell on that week. It was a holiday.

"Nothing." She shrugged, trying to keep her emotions at bay. "Probably hang out with Deja; help her get all the things her mom wants for Thanksgiving dinner."

"That sounds nice." His face didn't match the exuberance of his tone and she couldn't fight the grin on her face. "Or come with me."

Her face twisted. "Spend Thanksgiving with you."

"Yeah." He nodded. "I rent this place out for my family so we can all be together and you should come."

She blinked slightly dazed. "With your family there." She narrowed her eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea. We do not actually have a family-friendly relationship."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm your fake girlfriend..." She started. "That you fuck a lot...loudly to be exact."

"Well we can slack off of the latter but..." He smirked, the moon's glow igniting the specks of gold in his eyes. "The girlfriend part will be just fine with my family."

She shook her head. "Nah, I don't think that's a good idea. Lying to your parents. You're family. That's not a good idea. We're in a contractual relationship."

"And so is everyone else, they just don't sign paperwork." He exclaimed gesturing to the people around. "I want you to come with me and you're playing the part of my girlfriend and she would come with me so come with me."

"Dominic..." She whispered, moving her hands out of his but he didn't release her from his grasp. "You don't want me there. I'm not good during the holidays. I'm a mess. I can't put up a front and be on for you. I can't be perfect that week."

"Then don't." He tipped up her chin drawing her sight back to him. "Just be....with me."

Her eyebrows knitted as she studied him trying to understand what was going on underneath that handsome face of his but he didn't give away any clues.

"And I won't have to be perfect?" She asked.

"Just be you." He said. "No pressure and we'll have a dry weekend, that is if you can keep your hands to yourself." He joked, holding up their clasped hands.

"You're the one with no willpower." She snatched her hands away from him with a wide smile spreading across her face chasing away the sadness that threatened to flood her body. "I can go cold turkey."

"Ha!" He teased, starting to walk. "Wasn't it your hand sliding into my boxers earlier?"

"I don't recall." She quipped, looking both ways to ensure a car wasn't coming. "That moment in time."

"I do." He claimed her hand once more to cross the street. "It was at the hotel several hours ago. "It was a fun time and if you come with me next week we can have more fun."

She latched her arm around his, drawing closer to his body. "Can I think about it?"

"Sure." He glanced down at her with a simple curve to his lip. "Now, let's go eat."

She sighed, laying on his arm. "As soon as we find the car."

"I know where it is." He scanned the street. "We are not lost."

"If that's what you say." She yawned not feeling sleepy at all but completely content. 

Should she spend Thanksgiving with Dominic and his family or spend it was Deja?

Why do you think he keeps taking her hand when crossing the street?

Should she be worried about spending a holiday with him?

Why do you think Dominic made a face that she missed when she negated the notion of her being his 'kryptonite'?