Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Zoe
No. No. No. He is not supposed to be making me laugh. I am not supposed to think he’s cute from the way he just cheers’d me, and I was definitely not supposed to replay him licking that bottle over and over in my head throughout the entire flight.
I stick the bread in my mouth and glance around the place, needing to see anything but him right now. I quickly realize that was a mistake because David’s ex-love interest is coming directly our way again.
“Here, sweetie. I remember you liked crab cakes, so I put in an order for you,” Leslie says as she sets the plate down on the table.
David grins up at her. “Thank you!”
I watch as she winks and gives a little bump of her hip toward him before she walks away.
“Oh, she’s got it bad!” I tease.
He closes his eyes, seemingly embarrassed by the entire situation, which is endearing.
“Hey, don’t let me get in the way of your fun. We have separate rooms. I’ll just make sure I’m not directly next to you.” I reach for my fork. “I will, however, take full advantage of the food she brought you.”
I sneak a bite of the crab cake without asking for permission.
“Help yourself,” he taunts me.
With a mouthful, I reply, “I will.” Once I’ve swallowed the yummy goodness, I motion to him. “You should try it. I highly recommend.”
“Oh, do you now?” He laughs, then takes a bite. “Yeah, not bad.”
“But seriously, you guys should hook up tonight. Why not?” I shrug as I steal another bite.
“I’m not talking to you about hooking up with my ex-girlfriend tonight.”
I wave him off. “It doesn’t add to your count if she’s a repeat.”
His mouth falls open in shock, but he’s quick to recover. “Did you really just talk about my count?”
“Yeah, you know, how many people you’ve been with. If you go back to someone who is already on the list—maybe when you’re in a slump of finding someone new and need to find a release of some kind—then it’s better to go back to someone you’ve already been with.”
He sits back in his booth, twirling his beer on the table. “Is that really how you think?”
“Is it how I think?” I place my hand on my chest. “No. But I know a lot of guys do.”
“And you think I’m like a lot of guys?”
Now it’s my turn to cheers him, so I pick up my glass and motion the same way he did to me earlier. “If the pants fit.”
“Then what would you say if I told you I’m not the kind of guy who just hooks up with random girls?”
“But that’s the point.” I motion toward where she’s standing, not trying to hide that she’s watching our conversation.
“She’s not random. How long did you guys date for?
You’ve already slept with her. At least, I hope so, or she has some very strong emotional ties to you, which is weird if there’s no physical relationship to tie it to.
” Then it hits me, and I place my hands on the table, leaning toward him.
“Is that it? Did you hold out on her, and now she’s begging to finally get some? ”
He drops his head back and lets out a loud laugh. “No, I did not hold out on her.”
I bring my hands back to my lap. “Well then, she liked what you gave because she is giving you massive bedroom eyes right now.”
I motion toward her, and he looks, which I know he regrets instantly because she waves seductively at him. He doesn’t wave back, just smiles politely, and I have to lift my napkin to cover my mouth so she doesn’t see me laugh too hard.
“I hate you right now—you know that, right?” he says playfully with his eyes open wide at me, trying to make sure Leslie doesn’t see.
“At least we’re back to that stage between us.” I shrug with nonchalance.
Our food is brought out, and I waste no time digging in.
“So, you do actually eat,” he points out like he’s surprised.
“Of course I eat. Why would that be a question?”
He waves his hand toward me. “Have you seen yourself?”
“Just because I’m small does not mean I don’t eat.”
He challenges my statement. “Do you think you’ll finish that plate?”
I glance down, seeing the massive pile of vegetables and mashed potatoes, and look back at him, suddenly annoyed. “Probably not, but that’s beside the point. Are you going to finish everything on your plate?”
“After not eating lunch? Absolutely. And I’ll finish yours too. Save me a bite of salmon, won’t you?”
I shake my head and take another bite, loving the garlic taste that’s making the salmon melt in my mouth.
A few more bites, and I’m getting full, but I don’t want to admit it, so I start taking smaller bites. He, on the other hand, is munching down on that burger without a care in the world.
“How’s your burger?” I ask, knowing the answer by how much is already gone but just wanting something to talk about since my own appetite is slowing down.
“Good. You almost done there?” He points to my plate so I give in.
“Fine. Yes, I’m full. Here.” I push my plate his way.
He lifts his fork and takes a bite of my leftover salmon, nodding his approval. “That’s good.”
“Yes, it was, but I can’t eat another bite.”
“Now, this I could get used to. I will gladly finish any food you don’t want.”
I sit back in our booth and lift my wine glass to take a sip. “Then how do you stay so skinny?”
He shrugs, mouth full of another bite of burger. “Good metabolism, I guess. I don’t always eat like this. Cooking for one consists of mainly smaller meals and sometimes even just a PB and J if I don’t feel like cooking.”
My mind goes wild as I sit here, watching him eat, with nothing left to talk about that I don’t already know about him.
I’ve been trying to avoid familiar topics because I don’t want to mess up and mention parts of his world that I’m not supposed to know.
I’ve already slipped up one too many times.
Sitting here feels so awkward, and since he’s the one eating, it feels like I should be the one to initiate conversation, even though I have no clue what to say.
“What about you? Do you cook?” he asks, breaking our silence.
“Sometimes. But, yeah, it’s harder when it’s just for one. I probably have a bowl of granola for dinner more often than I should.”
“Well, you just met my ex, and you know now that I’m single. I’m assuming you are too?”
I tilt my head to the side. “And why would you just assume that?”
“Because I’ve been with you all day and you’ve only texted with your girlfriends on that group chat. No boyfriend has called to check up on you. If you were my girlfriend who was going on a work trip with another guy, you bet I’d be calling just to make sure he knew you were taken.”
“Taken?” I fake insult.
He blows me off. “You know what I mean.”
“Well, no. I’m not taken, as you say. Dating is hard in the city.”
“Yeah, I get that. I actually thought I had something going recently, but …” He pauses, and my heart breaks. “You know, life happens.”
The way he said life happens rips me in two. I don’t want him to think he was ghosted. I don’t want him to worry or question why I’m not responding or giving us more time, but what else am I supposed to do?
Our waitress comes over to our table, and I’ve never been so thankful. “Would you like another glass of wine?”
“Yes, please,” I answer without a second thought.
“And you, sir?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m the driver, so I should stick to one.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be right back with that. Can I get you anything else? Would you like to see our dessert menu?”
He gives me a childish, playful expression, so I laugh and answer for us, “Why not? We’ll take a look.”
“Great. I’ll be right back,” she says, leaving us again.
“So, you’re a dessert guy?” I tease.
“Only on special occasions,” he responds.
That makes me question, “What makes this a special occasion?”
He holds the last bite of his burger up in the air. “We’ve spent the entire day together and not killed each other yet. I’d say that calls for a celebration.” He pops the burger in his mouth, grinning from ear to ear.
I hate the way he makes me laugh, but I don’t try to stop it this time.