And through appetizers. It’s right after our main dishes are served that they start to go downhill.
“So, Ben,” Lance says, cutting a bite of his steak and then glancing up at me. “I’ve gotta say, when Parker told me that you and Lori were dating, I practically fell out of my chair.”
“Gosh, thanks, Lance,” Lori says sarcastically.
“Not because of you, honey,” he says with a little wink. “It’s just I always thought Ben here had no intention of dating.”
“Wonder where you got that idea?” I say with a pointed look at Parker.
She pauses in the process of winding pasta around her fork and narrows her eyes at me. “I’m pretty sure he picked it up from your track record. Because, remind me, when’s the last time you saw the same girl for more than one night in a row? Is it four years ago now? Or five? And didn’t you cheat on her—”
“Hey, now,” Lori says with a little laugh. “We all did things we shouldn’t have in college. Slept with people we shouldn’t have—”
“Became friends with someone we shouldn’t have,” I mutter around a bite of my pork.
Parker’s fork clatters to her plate, but she reaches for her glass of wine to cover it, and the place is so noisy, nobody seems to notice.
Except I notice.
Just like I notice the look of hurt on her face and feel instant regret. This fight that we’re having is stupid. I get that. Six solid years of friendship, and I lost my temper all because she thought I didn’t want a girlfriend.
But damn, that had burned.
The way it didn’t even occur to her that I could be a boyfriend.
The way she couldn’t even begin to picture that if I cared for someone, I would treat them like they were my everything.
The way she’d thought I wasn’t good enough.
Sure, I’d been her boy toy for a while there, and that had been more than okay. I’d gone into that situation eyes open, perfectly content to be there.
But until our conversation in her bedroom that last day, I hadn’t realized that she only thought of me as a boy toy.
And it had hurt.
Just like she’s hurt now, by my careless statement about regretting the friends I made in college.
But I’m not feeling all that apologetic just now. Not when Lance’s arm drops around the back of her chair as he starts to tell some boring-ass story about an art show they went to last night.
The only time Parker and I ever went to art shows was to make fun of the art, but, hey, if her boyfriend wants to go…
“So, what are you two doing the rest of the weekend?” Parker asks, putting her elbows on the table and smiling at Lori.
Lori gives me a nervous little glance. “Oh, I don’t know. No plans really. I have my sister’s baby shower tomorrow afternoon, and then—”
“We’re going to Portland City Grill,” I interrupt.
Both Parker and Lori look at me, and it’s tough to tell who’s more surprised.
“We are?” Lori asks.
I give her a slow, seductive smile. “Surprise.”
And then I feel like the biggest asshole because she gives me this beyond-happy smile, and I realize I’ve just done the ultimate dick move of toying with one girl’s emotions just to get a rise out of another girl.
I suspect Parker knows it, too, because she’s no longer looking wounded; she’s looking pissed.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.