Chapter 8 #2
I sigh to myself. I don’t know how to tell her that I couldn’t care less if this meal was $10 or $1500.
It’s all just a drop in the bucket for me.
I would have gladly paid it for her company, even if I’m turning out to be a poor companion.
But those are dangerous waters to tread simply because she’s upset.
At the very least, $300 is worth what I put her through leading up to this date. She deserves more, honestly.
I take out my card and put it in the billfold without a second glance at the total. And when the waiter eventually returns with the receipt to sign, I leave a $100 tip.
The atmosphere changes after that. I can tell Chrissy’s still distraught as I drive the roughly twenty miles home from the restaurant.
She fiddles with the cross at her neck, running her fingers over it absently.
It makes me anxious to see her so tense.
I reach out and gently grab her hand, holding it over the middle console, brushing my thumb over her fingers.
She doesn’t look at me but squeezes my hand in return.
“Please don’t worry about this, okay?” I say. “Believe it or not, it’s not the most expensive meal I’ve ever paid for.”
“You’re lying.” Chrissy laughs, but it sounds a little wet, like she’s crying. Fuck my life.
“Swear to god,” I chuckle. “Marcus had the bright idea once to start a tab at a Chili’s, of all places, and he was getting drunk at two in the afternoon, celebrating his divorce from Heather McIntosh. You remember her? I think she was in your grade.”
Chrissy frowns but nods.
“He was wasted, and not in a sound frame of mind. Too euphoric. Depressed. He wound up offering drinks to everyone in that Chili’s for almost thirty minutes before the server cut him off because she had serious reservations about whether he could pay for it.
Mind you, there were only about twenty-five people in the building at this time, but that shit added up quickly. ”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope. Completely serious. Fucker ran the tab up to almost a thousand dollars before they cut him off.”
Chrissy gasps, smacking her free hand up to her mouth as she stares at me with wide eyes. “That’s a lot of alcohol.” She would know. She works at a bar.
“Lo and behold, he really didn’t have the money to pay for it.
” I laugh. “So, he called me to bail him out before they called the cops to have him arrested. Now he’s banned from that Chili’s forever, and I get to roast him mercilessly for the rest of his life.
I mean, who gets banned from a Chili’s?”
Chrissy bursts out laughing, her tears now a force of hilarity. She wipes at her eyes delicately so she doesn’t mess up her makeup, and then she shakes her head and smiles, squeezing my hand again.
“Thank you for that,” she replies gently.
I just smile in return.
“I’ll never be able to look at Marcus the same again,” she beams.
“The incident has officially been dubbed ‘Chili’s-Gate 2012.’”
She doubles over laughing, and finally, everything seems to settle back to normal.
We listen to the radio the rest of the way to her house, but I notice our hands stay clasped.
Her skin is soft beneath my calloused hand, and her fingers are so delicate compared to mine that it feels strange but lovely as she brushes them against my skin.
Unfortunately, it’s not enough to make me forget what happened at the restaurant, and the confusion threatens to take over.
I can’t get the thought that I might be attracted to Luke out of my head, and it makes me feel dishonest. Like I’m cheating on Chrissy somehow when we’re not even officially dating.
Parking in her driveway, I kill the engine and get out, walking around to the passenger side door to open it and help her out. The drop from the truck's cab to the ground is a bit challenging, given her height, but she manages to make it look graceful, even in six-inch heels.
We walk up to her front door, and it’s clear she’s more than willing to invite me inside.
However, I feel a sudden pull at the back of my head, like a chill down my spine that makes me hold back.
It’s the first time I’ve ever declined an invitation like this, but I don’t feel right doing anything else tonight.
Not until I’ve got my head screwed back on straight.
I owe her either my undivided attention or none at all.
Chrissy turns when she sees I’m not following, but she doesn’t seem offended. She smiles. “I had a good time tonight. Even if it turns out I’m not a cheap date.”
“You’re worth every penny.” I smirk, and she blushes.
She steps forward, closing the distance between us, and pulls me in until we’re pressed together.
She tilts her head up, and we kiss, the movement gentle and warm, and I can safely say I’m definitely still attracted to women.
As I place my hands on her waist, her soft body beckoning beneath the thin fabric of her dress, I can almost forget that I’m two seconds away from having a panic attack. Almost.
In the end, we pull apart. She’s got a starry look in her eyes, and her smile lights up, radiating happy energy. I smile in return, but I still feel wrong. We say goodnight, and she disappears into her house as I drag myself back to my truck with a racing heart and erratic mind.