Feeling covetous?
U have no idea.
Atta boy.
My phone is silent again for several minutes while I pick out and pay for my sandwich. I am walking to a table in the back of the cafeteria to sit with Matt and a few other guys when it pings yet again. I put my tray down on the table, pull my phone from my pocket, and slide it open.
Tell me u aren’t having lunch with the douche bag u were talking to last night.
I could. But it would b a lie.
I hate him.
U don’t even know him.
I don’t have to.
Well, if it makes u feel better, I hate him too.
Then why r u having lunch with him?
Item number 3: Shitty-ass boyfriends are always too quick to point out the obvious.
Just sayin’.
I know I am wearing a stupid fucking smile, and when I slide my phone closed and look up, Matt says, “I want some of whatever Emma’s smoking.” They all chuckle and look at me in expectation. As if they want me to tell them why the hell I am smiling. As if they want to know what is so goddamned funny.
“You couldn’t handle what I’m smoking, Matt,” I say with a knowing smirk.
Chapter Sixteen
On Friday, I leave work a few minutes early because, once I get home, I won’t have much time to get ready before David picks me up. I have no idea what I am supposed to wear to the club, and I hope to hell that he was kidding about me wearing a catsuit. When I walk into my apartment, it’s already six-twenty so I grab a quick shower and dress in a pair of black jeans and a dark purple shirt. I finish getting ready and am done by the time he knocks on my door at precisely seven.
We head into the city, and this time David is actually driving like a normal person. When we get downtown, he pulls into a metered space and gets out. He wraps his hand around mine, and we walk together down the sidewalk for four or five blocks. He tugs me into a side alley and up to a door. When he pulls the door open, my nose is saturated with amazing smells. As soon as I look inside, I understand. He has brought me to the Thai restaurant he told me about a few days ago. It’s a tiny space crammed full of chattering people. I am very, very excited. I have never eaten in a place like this.
“I love this place already,” I say shyly to David. He looks over at me and softly grins and squeezes my hand. When the hostess comes over to seat us, she greets David by name and takes us to a small table. It is the only open table in the place. The other people standing near the door, presumably waiting for a table of their own, look at us with envy or spite or whatever. I really don’t give a damn. I am hungry as shit and loving David for bringing me here.
“Just wait till we eat,” he says, “then you’ll really be in love.”
While we wait for our food, we talk about his friends in the band and how he met them. They were practicing for a gig at a bar he was working in, and they have been friends ever since. He assures me again that the kind of music they make is not going to win any hearts, and then he tells me that I might hate the club, and I might hate the music. And if I do, I should let him know and we can leave. As the waitress is putting our food down on the table, I tell him that, no matter what kind of music or club it is, I won’t be asking him to leave.
“I have never in my life asked a date to leave somewhere,” I say. “I’m game for whatever.”
He raises his eyebrows at me. “Wait,” he says dramatically, “did you just imply that this a date? Do fuck buddies even go on dates?”
“Sure, they do. Especially when one of them wants to be shown a good time before they get to the fucking.” I can tell from his facial expression that David has never, ever had a woman say such a thing to him before. My insides are jumping with amusement, and I am trying to keep from smiling.
“But I thought the fucking was the good time?” he says. Damn him. I can’t think of a single thing to say in response, so I just sit there smiling like a total crackpot. “Emma, wherever you come from, it must be one hell of a place,” he adds while shaking his head and looking down at his plate.
“You have no idea where I come from. Well, actually, yes, you do. You already met Michael, so that should give you a pretty good idea.”
“Yeah, well, we all got strange shit in our past.” He trails off as if he is thinking hard. A few seconds later he adds, “That picture in your room, is that your mom and you?” Oh. He noticed the picture.
“Yep. That’s my mom. Before Michael was in our life. We didn’t have a lot, but we were happy. My brothers were decent kids back then. But once Michael got a hold of them, everything changed.”