Page 70 of Whispers and Wildfire
“That’s so great. I hope you’re having a good time.” She rubbed her lips together and leaned closer to the mirror to check her reflection. “I just love girl time in the bathroom, don’t you? It’s so fun how we can be basically strangers, but bond when we’re in here.”
“Yeah, it’s the best.”
I kind of wanted to hate her, but she was too likable. And talking to her—seeing that she was not only pretty but also friendly—made the queasiness in my stomach build until it threatened to become full-blown nausea.
“I should get back to my… table,” I said, slightly stuttering. “I mean, date. Get back to Hank. He’s probably wondering if I fell in.”
She smiled as she dabbed a finger beneath one eye, fixing what must have been a tiny smudge of mascara. “Have a great night.”
“You too.”
Don’t have too great of a night, though.
I pushed open the restroom door, simmering with anger. Stupid Luke had to bring his stupid, nice, pretty date to this restaurant. I felt like puking up my dinner, and it was absolutely his fault.
Before I could stop, I slammed right into someone coming out of the men’s room.
His scent made my eyes widen. That subtle cologne mixed with a hint of rubber and engine grease.
Luke Haven.
“Sor—” He cut off his apology as he stepped back and lowered his voice. “What are you doing here?”
I kept my voice to a whisper. “What amIdoing here? I was here first. What are you doing here?”
“I’m…” He sputtered for a second, gesturing toward the restaurant. “I’m on a date.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah, I saw that.”
“I saw you too.”
He rested his hands on his hips and blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know how this keeps happening.”
“I told you we should keep a calendar. With locations, apparently.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He glanced away. “Shouldn’t this be fine, though? Can’t we just, I don’t know…”
“Yeah, of course it’s fine.” I was such a liar. “We’re both adults. We can handle it.”
“Right. This is normal. You’re here with a date; I’m here with a date. It’s fine.”
“Completely fine.”
“So it doesn’t bother you?”
Tremendously. And I might barf on your shoe.“Not at all.” Apparently, I sounded convincing because he nodded. “And it doesn’t bother you?”
He huffed. “No. Of course it doesn’t bother me.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Okay, then,” I said. “I’ll go back to my date, and you go back to yours.”
“That’s what I’m going to do.”
