We’ve been sitting at a table for five minutes that feels like an hour. He’s not talking, I’m avoiding looking directly at him, and we’re both way too interested in our menu.
And I really hope he did not catch me taking a little whiff at his sweater, currently wrapped around my shoulders. Damn him for smelling so good.
Like I said, awkward.
“Are you guys ready to order?” The waitress asks, stopping next to our table with a little notepad.
I clear my throat and risk a glance towards Nate. I wasn’t ready to find his eyes already narrowed on me, and my whole body tenses with more awkwardness.
Yep. He totally saw me sniff at his sweater.
“Sure,” I say to our elderly waitress, my voice probably betraying my level of uneasiness. “I’ll have the zucchini and goat cheese pie, with a side salad.”
“Same for me,” he says, closing his menu to hand it to her. “And some water, please.”
“Thank you.”
She leaves our table with a kind smile, taking both menus—goodbye, oh dear paper shield—with her.
There are only five other people inside the restaurant. Maybe—probably—because no one goes out to eat at a restaurant when it’s raining like the apocalypse has just started. Which it has, to be fair. How else can I explain this unrealistic situation I’m stuck in?
“So,” Nate drawls lazily, leaning back in his chair. Our knees brush from the movement, and I jolt awkwardly. “How have you been?”
Okay, so we’re not going to talk about what he said in the car… What the hell is going on?
“What?” I ask, blinking a couple of times in confusion.
“You know. The last nine or so years? How have you been?”
“Uh… Fine? I guess?”
“Were you at the LAPD for work? To do composite drawings?”
“Hum… Yes. I signed my contract today”
He nods slowly, his eyes boring into mine. He looks so relaxed. Howdoes he look so relaxed when I’m such a nervous wreck? I’ve never confronted him about what I’ve overheard, and he’s never been rude towards me. We’re practically strangers now, but we were never in conflict or whatever. At least not directly. Atleastnot until I found out about the little game Jack and him used to play in college.
Alright, now we’re in conflict.
He starts playing with his fork, and I’m trying my best to come up with something to say, to ask, but I come up empty.
“And, did you know your… friend, Raph, would be there?”
I blink, my brows creasing in confusion. Oh. Okay, that’s what this is, then. Is he stuck in the past? Trying to fix his relationship with Jack by meddling in my relationship like they both used to?
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but no, I did not,” I grit out between my teeth. “And I’m not talking about this with you, especially after what I learned yesterday.”
“Come on, you can’t bethatmad,” he says, rolling his eyes like it’s no big deal. “Those guys were absolute assholes, we did you a favor.”
Awkwardness left. Anger entered the chat.
How can he think that what they did was okay? I spent years trying to build my self confidence after that first year of college! Every guy who showed the least bit of interest in me ended up standing me up and proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the year.
“Afavor?” I hiss.
“Trust me it was. Jerkwood was far from being the worst of them.”
“Not the fucking point, Nate! You should never have meddled in who I date or don’t date! Neither Jack nor you for that matter.”
