Chapter 36
Anna
From the other side of the booth, I stared stupidly at Flynn. Already, my stomach was knotted so tight, I could barely breathe.Of all the people to join us, why Mackenzie?
I hadn't seen her in three whole years. And even then, she hadn't been nearly this friendly. In fact, our last encounter had been so awful that I couldn't help but wonder why on Earth she was even pretending to be my friend.
Yes, we'd been best friends in high school, but afterward, when my family had lost everything, she'd ditched me quicker than she'd ditched the president of the math club after blowing him in the back parking lot.
Oh well.At leasthe'dbeen happy.
As far as myself, her renewed friendliness shouldn't've been a surprise. I wasn't stupid. I knew exactly why she'd approached us, and it had nothing to do with fond feelings from high school.
As I watched, she slid closer to Flynn and practically cooed, "So, the two of you are an item, huh?"
Obviously, she meant me and Flynn, which told me that Mackenzie, like a million other people, had seen that whole stupid interview my mom had given in our crappy little apartment.
With my heart in my throat, I waited for Flynn to respond. And when he didn't, I forced myself to speak up. "Uh, yeah."
Yup, that was me. Miss Eloquence.
Across from me, Flynn looked decidedly unimpressed. I knew what he was doing. He was putting me on the spot, making me perform whether I felt like it or not.
But that's exactly what I'd signed on for, wasn't it?
Reluctantly, I tried again. "Actually, we're living together."
Mackenzie gave me a smile that was even faker than her nose, which yes, had changed considerably since high school. "Oh really?" she said. "You mean at the mansion he's building north of town?"
Funny, Flynn never called it a mansion. He called it his house.
But hey, I had a role to play, and it wasn'tmyjob to tone it down. "Oh yeah," I said. "And, um, the place is huge,reallyhuge, with a really nice kitchen."
Good lord.
The sad truth was, even though I'd been staying at the house for a little while now, I hadn't wanted to snoop through his property. As a result, other than the kitchen and dining area, and yes, the hideous pink bedroom, I didn't know a whole lot about the place that Flynn called home.
Funny, I didn't know a lot of things.
I didn't know his favorite color or the kind of music he liked. As far as food, I knew he liked waffles – well, some waffles, anyway.But what else did he like?
We were at a steakhouse.Did that mean he liked steak?
Probably.
I mean,allguys liked steak, right?
We hadn't yet ordered, mostly because Flynn had told the waitress that we weren't in hurry and that we wanted to enjoy our drinks first. As forherpart, the waitress had slobbered all over him, telling him in a breathy voice that she'd be happy to provide him anything he wanted,personally.
And then, she'd winked at him, as if I weren't sitting right here in the same booth.
Recalling my drink – a glass of red wine – I picked it up and gulped like there was no tomorrow. When I returned the glass to the table, half of the wine was gone.
Good.
If I had my way, the other half would be disappearing down my gullet shortly, assuming my stomach would cooperate. With sudden desperation, I said, "Bread – we need more of it."
Mackenzie frowned toward the bread basket that the waitress had dropped off ten minutes earlier. "But why?" Mackenzie said. "There's plenty left."
