Lex paused in the doorway. “Look, do you really think this is a good idea? As much as I’m against any sort of relationship where you hang up the cape and actually stay committed to one person, this could end badly, you spying on her.”
“Superheroes don’t spy. We . . . check in.”
“And as the villain to your hero, I would just break in, so who am I to talk?”
“Exactly.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Spying didn’t feel wrong to me until we rolled up in my SUV like two dudes trying to scope out a bank.
“Far corner,” Lex said lowering the binoculars. “She’s facing him, not sitting across but to the side. Bastard may have skills after all. Wanna see?”
“No.” I stared straight ahead. “The absolute last thing I want to see is how close he’s sitting to her, or if he’s strategically dropping his napkin on the floor so he can have an excuse to scoot his chair closer.”
“It’s scary,” Lex said in a low voice, “how well you know the male gender.”
“Napkin drop?”
“Yup.”
“Chair scooting?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Shit.” I rubbed my eyes, my vision blurring from the headache. “He’s probably going to lean in and say he can’t hear her very well because of the crowd. There will be another chair scoot until they’re thigh to thigh, giving him a one-inch walk for his hand to cover her bare leg. Best erotic zone for a date.”
Lex was silent. And then, “Shit, man, you should write a book . . . He’s frowning, he just looked apologetic . . . Another chair scoot, but I can’t see under the table.”
“He’s touching her. Of course he’s touching her.”
“Don’t assume.”
“Because I’ve been wrong up until now?” I snapped.
Lex didn’t answer, and I still couldn’t bring myself to look. Looking felt like the final straw, a betrayal. I’d said I trusted her, so at least by using Lex I was keeping my promise. Sort of.
“So, Superman, what’s the next move?” Lex asked after a few seconds of silence.
My phone buzzed.
It was a text from Blake.
Frowning, I opened it up and felt my entire body tense.#p#分页标题#e#
Blake: Dinner is over. Ordering dessert, then I’ll be home. Don’t worry.
“Lex?” I grimaced at the phone, rage pumping through my system as I contemplated slamming the phone against the dash. “Have they eaten yet?”
“I see bread on the table . . . but no main dish. Wait, hold on.” He was silent again, and then continued, “The waiter stopped by, but David waved him off.”
Nodding, I fired a text back to Blake.
Ian: Is the food good? What did you order?
I got a response right away.
Blake: Food’s great. I got chicken pad Thai.
“Lex . . .” I seriously needed to leave before I barged into the restaurant and raised hell. “Are you sure they haven’t eaten?”
“Almost positive. Why does it matter?”
“I guess it doesn’t.” Except she was lying to me about something small. Which meant if something big took place . . .
Why tell me what she ordered and say it’s good if she hadn’t even eaten yet? Why make up a lie? Why the hell was I being so paranoid?
“We should go,” I said. It wasn’t like I could confront her now, and it was just food after all.
“Yeah,” Lex said, quickly putting the car into drive and tossing the binoculars in the backseat. “Great idea.”
“Whoa, suddenly in a hurry?” I laughed as Lex turned the car around so that my window was facing the restaurant.
It was a glance.
One freaking glance.
That I would regret for the rest of my life.
Blake.
David.
Kissing.
I held up my phone, unable to stop myself from taking a picture of the lip-lock, thinking at any minute she was going to push him away, slap him, stand up, and leave.
She didn’t.
I snapped the photo.
And when Lex peeled out of the parking lot, I hit the final nail in our relationship coffin. Hey, look at that—we made it to three weeks.
Apparently, our matchmaking program needed a bit more work.
I clicked “Send” with the caption Hope you enjoyed dessert.
“Lex,” I mumbled once we got back to the house. “Get me drunk. Now.”
He stared at me, his face unreadable, which wasn’t like Lex. We’d been friends for years, and he’d never, in all our time hanging out, looked at me like that, not even when I was injured and in the hospital.
For the first time in my adult life, my best friend looked at me with pity.