One of Gabe’s perfect brows arches in confusion. “Southern Viking Dude?”
“Um ... it’s what I called you when I didn’t know your name.”
“To who?”
“Clementine.” I grimace. “And ... well, Annie. Small world, right?”
“Anyway.” Bình reaches over and snatches the container from my hand, replacing it with another. “I hate to break up this little”—he pauses and glances up at the ceiling, as if searching his brain for the right word— “whatever the fuck this is, but it’s going to end in both of you taking out a restraining order on his girlfriend. Sooo, Lo. Tell us about you.”
“Okay, well. I dropped out of college, much to my parent’s disapproval.”
“What was your major?” Gabe asks.
“Finance.”
Gabe laughs and glances up from his food. “For real? No wonder you dropped out.”
“Hey, I’m good with numbers.” I shrug. “I’m just not so great at showing up to class and studying them.”
“Who is?”
I smile. “Anyway, I’ve been bartending ever since.”
“You ever think about waiting tables? We could use someone at the restaurant.”
Gabe smirks. “Nice try, asshole.”
“What? I’m serious.”
“I kind of like slinging drinks, you know? I mean, it’s not like I planned to be a bartender when I grew up, but I get to work with my best friend Clementine, the customers are usually too drunk to notice if you spill their drinks, and I like watching people interact.”
“What a coincidence. I like interacting. Maybe you should come over when you’re done here?” Bình waggles his brows.
“Okay,” Gabe says, snatching the takeout container from his friend and setting it down on the table. “Dude, we gotta finish this up.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you.”
“I’m not finishing a job with you in here. Besides, I can’t have food in my workspace.”
“Um, have we not just been eating this awesome meal—that I prepared—in your workspace?” Bình leans forward, smiling at me. “Did I mention I cook, Lo? Because I do.”
“Alright, thank you very much for bringing us food, but now I need you gone.”
“Okay, okay. I’m going. Lo, you swing by the restaurant anytime. I’d be happy to cook for you. And if you ever need a single, available man—”
“She’ll be running for the fucking hills,” Gabe deadpans. “Get the fuck out.”
“Fuck, man. Point taken. You can’t have her, but you don’t want your best friend to have her either. I get it.”
“Out!” Gabe shouts.
I grin. “Nice to meet you, Bình.”
“Bye, Lo.” He gives me a wave and turns his serious gaze on his friend. “I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing, man. One day, that girl of yours is going to chop it off, and you’ll wake up screaming in a pool of your own blood.”
“Get outta here.”
Gabe shoves his friend around the partition, and I lean back on the bed and let out a long breath as I listen to them whisper-argue at the front door. So, I didn’t imagine it? Gabe feels this connection too. I’m just not sure what the hell we’re supposed to do about it.