“Is that all I’ve been to you this entire time? A cock? A walking dildo?”
“No, of course not.” I narrow my eyes. “You can’t deny that there’s something between us.”
“Lust. Lust isn’t enough. Never was. Why do you think I’ve gone through so many girls?”
“Do you really want me to answer that? Because I have a theory, and you aren’t going to like it.”
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says, somehow turning the pet name into an insult.
“All right,sweetheart, here it is. You don’t like to commit to any one girl for too long because you want to make sure that you leave them, not the other way around. You’re scared of commitment—terrified of it—because of everything that went down with your dad and especially because of how your mom reacted to his death. You don't want to love. That's why you're making such a big deal about this. You both love and hate your mom, and I think you've forgotten how to love without hating too. That's why you can be such a dick sometimes."
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m the dick? You’re the one—”
“Don’t you dare bring up any of that shit that you said you forgave me for,” I warn.
He stares at the window. "Where the fuck is our waitress? I just want the bill already."
I swallow hard. “You hardly ate.”
“I lost my appetite.” He glances at my plate before staring out the window again. “You took, what, two bites?”
“I was excited about the idea of taking another step with you. Even if I didn’t meet your mom, I still thought maybe you could take me somewhere. I don’t know. See where you grew up. See where you lived during high school. Do you have a place off campus or… What are you going to do in the summer?”
“That’s not really anything you need to worry about now, is it?” he asks coolly.
“Rob, I care about you.”
“So much so that you don’t give a shit about my feelings. Do you ever think before you speak?”
“Do you hear your tone? How you’re talking to me? It’s not good. It’s not…” I shake my head.
“You’re taking issue with my tone? After what you’ve asked me? Seriously, my mom isn’t on the table.”
“I’m sorry. I guess you’re so used to relationships that take place in the bedroom and nowhere else that you can’t even recall what it’s like to be in a meaningful one.”
“Have you been in many meaningful relationships?”
“Just one,” I say softly. “This one.”
Rob shuts his eyes and exhales so deeply that his chest expands impressively. When he opens his eyes, I see raw pain there.
“If you want to use me as a punching bag because something happened, fine, but the least you can do is tell me what happened,” I say.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Somehow, I doubt that. He’s hurting, and I don’t just think it’s because we’re in a very bad place right now.
Just then, our waitress came over. “Is something wrong with your meals?” she asks worriedly.
“Nothing,” Rob says. “If we could have boxes, please, that would be great. And I’ll take the check and your number, if you’re interested.”
I gape at him. Is he fucking kidding me?
“When is your shift over?” he asks. “There’s a coffee place not far from here. I wonder if their desserts are any good.”
“I get off at ten,” she says. “And maybe I can get you off after coffee and dessert.”
“Dessert followed by dessert,” he agrees with a wink.