Not only have I given Lori the wrong impression about where our “relationship” is going by claiming to be taking her to one of the nicest restaurants in Portland, but now I’ll have to actually try to get reservations, plus foot the ridiculously expensive bill.
All because I’d been wanting to jog Parker’s memory of our night there, back when we’d been carefree and happy.
Fuck.
I need to regroup.
I can’t think in this crowded, noisy hellhole, so I take the coward’s way out and stand under the pretense of having to go to the bathroom.
Problem is, Parker’s had the exact same thought, and she stands at the exact same time, also announcing that she has to use the restroom.
I start to sit, but Lori touches my hand with a little laugh. “You two can go at the same time. I’m sure Lance and I can manage to make conversation without you.”
Fuck again.
The old Parker and Ben would have had no problem heading toward the restroom at the same time. We wouldn’t have thought a thing about it.
The new Parker and Ben…
I force a smile and avoid Parker’s eyes as I gesture for her to precede me in the direction of the restrooms.
The cramped dining room and the noise of tipsy diners prevents us from having to make conversation, but then we step into the deserted hallway and it’s annoyingly silent.
Still, we say nothing as we walk to the restrooms.
Correction.
Restroom.
Singular.
The tiny restaurant also apparently equates to tiny facilities, which means there’s only one coed bathroom. “You first,” I mutter.
She nods in thanks and brushes past me, but before she can close the door, my palm is on the door and I’m pushing it open, crowding her backward as I follow her in.
I shut the door, leaving us alone in a tiny dark room lit only by a few tiny candles that smell like lavender or some shit.
“What the hell, Ben,” she says, pushing at my shoulders. “I have to pee.”
“You do not,” I snap. “You were trying to escape the table just like I was.”
She says nothing. “I can’t believe you got us into this. Why didn’t you just tell her you didn’t like Italian food?”
“Because everybody likes Italian food. Why didn’t you just tell her that you and I aren’t on good terms?”
“Why didn’t you? You’re her boyfriend.”
I open my mouth to refute this, only to realize that my lack of boyfriend potential is the entire reason for our fight in the first place, and I refuse to give her any ammunition.
“You and Lance seem cozy,” I say snidely. “I take it he hasn’t gotten bored yet? Remembered all the reasons he dumped you in the first place?”
Shit. Too far.
Way too far.
Even if Parker hadn’t gasped in surprise, I would have known I’d crossed a cruel line with that.
I reach for her arms, gently, but she jerks back. Only she can’t, because the stupid bathroom is so small, we’re still chest to chest, both of us angry, both of us hurting.