I stare at the butter knife, wondering how long it would take to saw open my wrists with it. A shadow moves, distracting me, and I look up just as someone sits down in Barry’s seat.
My breath freezes in my lungs when the last person I expected to ever see again is staring right at me with an amused smirk playing on his lips. Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
Instead of speaking, I get choked on air and hack like a smoker for several embarrassingly long seconds.
He grins openly while leaning back.
“Interesting taste you have in men,” he drawls, lifting Barry’s inhaler from the table as a demonstration, then tossing it back down. Barry talks so much that his asthma acts up a lot.
Sheesh. I’m retaining the information Barry is giving me. Damn it, I was trying not to remember anything he was saying, because that’s valuable storage space in my brain. What if I forget how to do the Macarena because of that asthma factoid?
“Are you ignoring me? And are you seriously humming the Macarena right now?” Ethan asks me.
Yes, yes I am ignoring him. Because I’m suddenly five again, and this is Kindergarten. It worked back then, so it will work now. But I do stop humming.
He studies me as I remain silent, but I don’t like the look that crosses his eyes. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm, I pretend to be bored and stare at my nails. He’ll go away if I don’t bite.
Great. Now I’m thinking about literally biting him.
“For the last time, I’m not paying you for sex anymore! Stop stalking me, and stop trying to get my friends on your client list too!”
My head snaps up as silence fills the restaurant, and my entire body flames with a shade of crimson. Ethan is smirking, while everyone else stares at me wide-eyed.
“My cock is still sore from the last time I let you talk me into it!” he adds too loudly.
“Shut up!” I hiss, covering my face with my hand, but it doesn’t shield me nearly enough.
“Ah, so you can speak. At least I know how to make you stop ignoring me now. So what’s up with the tool?” he asks as though there aren’t still hundreds of eyes burning against us.
When he opens his mouth like he’s going to speak again, I rush to answer, afraid of what else he might spew.
“He’s not a tool. He’s a good guy with a solid job. He’s just… new to dating.”
“Thirty-year-old virgins are surprisingly not that hard to come by. You could do better.”
The bastard is amused. I want to crawl under the table and hide from the hushed whispers and lingering stares, but he’s relaxed and grinning. Unbelievable.
“He’s not a virgin,” I whisper defensively, even though I’m fairly positive Barry is definitely a virgin. That doesn’t matter. He’s a safe choice. Safe is much better than my usual choices, and I’m a new Bella.
This is me reinventing myself. Barry will grow on me. Who the hell am I kidding? I can’t stomach another minute of Barry talking about his slightly incestuous family.
“So you blew me off, but you’re on a date with him. Why?”
I look at him incredulously. All this because I wouldn’t go to his college-wanna-be party? Is he that vain?
“Did you stalk me here?” I ask him instead of answering his question.
“No,” he states, narrowing his eyes. “I was actually here first and saw you walk in with Tweedle Dee. Now answer my question.”
Yeah, no. I don’t answer him. We get locked in a staring contest, and I study those dark, intense eyes. It’s like look
ing into pits of dark chocolate. I love chocolate. I hate him.
“Um… You’re in my seat.”
The sound of Barry’s voice has me startling in my seat, and I look over to see him confused, raising both eyebrows at Ethan. Ethan, however, doesn’t look up at Barry. He’s too busy smirking at me.
“Why’d you blow me off?” Ethan asks again, drawing my full attention back to him.