I jolt a little in surprise at the thought, trying to push it away, but the thought merely digs its heels in. Two things that go together: you and me. Ben and Parker.
I frown.
Well. That’s new.
“You win,” I say hurriedly. “Game over.”
He holds up his right hand in a fist, then bumps it with his left fist.
I shake my head. “Did you just fist bump yourself?”
He shrugs. “Well, I knew you wouldn’t fist bump me. You hate losing.”
I back out of the
parking spot, relieved that he seems oblivious to my treacherous thoughts from a moment ago.
“Portland City Grill?” I ask.
He raises his eyebrows. “Feeling spendy, are we?”
“Feeling proud,” I correct. “You got a promotion, Ben. It deserves to be celebrated.”
You deserve to be celebrated, you big oaf.
He falls silent then, and I glance at him across the car. “You’re doing that thing, aren’t you?”
“What thing?”
“Where you think you don’t deserve it. Where you’re trying to figure out why the heck they picked you.”
He shrugs and looks out the window. “I didn’t do anything special. Any of the other people on the team would have been—”
“Stop,” I interrupt. “None of that. Don’t do that thing. You’ve got to stop thinking that just because you didn’t follow your parents’ defined path of success means you aren’t a success.”
He slams his head back against the headrest. “Now you’re doing that thing. The one where you try to fix a guy.”
“That’s not a thing.” At least it’s not my thing.
“Only because you didn’t have to fix Lance,” he mutters. “Lance already had it all figured out.”
His voice is grumpier than usual, and I have the oddest sense that we could be on our way to a mini-fight, except we’re saved by the buzzing of my phone.
“Can you get that?” I ask, pointing my head toward my purse in the backseat.
He digs it out and looks at the screen. “Lori.”
I groan.
“What, you guys in a girl fight or something? And if so, can I watch if it gets handsy?”
“No, not fighting,” I mutter as I merge onto the freeway toward the restaurant. “She just won’t stop bugging me about calling that guy.”
“What guy?”
“The one from the karaoke bar.”
“Ah,” he says. “The one who was making you do your head-back laugh.”