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“Thank you.” I smile. “Sounds good.”
“What would you like to drink?” she asks.
I frown over to Henry. “Wine?”
“I don’t drink wine,” he says, distracted by the menu in front of him. “You get whatever you want. I’ll have a beer, thanks.” I fake a smile. I’m so used to me and Nathan having the same tastes in everything. “I’ll have a margarita, please.”
“Okay.” She smiles and takes off toward the bar.
Henry’s mischievous eyes come to me. He takes my hand across the table. “Have you missed me?”
I giggle. “No.”
That’s not a lie. I haven’t missed him at all, and to be honest, I’m beginning to wonder why I’m even here. I’m not feeling any chemistry. It’s like I’m here with my brother.
Ugh…focus.
“So, tell me about New York.” He smiles.
I put my hands up. “Here we are. I love New York.”
“You’re enjoying it?”
“Very much. I’m coming home, though, next week.”
“What?” He frowns.
I laugh at his shocked face. “I’m moving back to San Fran.”
“What brought this on?”
“My contract was up here and… ” I pause as I think of the right wording. “It’s time.”
“So, what does the guard dog think about that?”
I roll my lips. Don’t go there. I rearrange the napkin on my lap. “Nathan and I broke up,” I say.
“Yes, I know. That’s why you left.” He smiles sarcastically as he sits back. “Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”
“Here you are.” The waitress puts our drinks on the table in front of us.
“Thank you.” I take a sip of my margarita and I inwardly wince. Fuck, that’s strong. It tastes like hand sanitizer. What kind of tequila is this? “Why do you say that?” I ask as I fight the urge to shiver in disgust. How the hell am I supposed to drink this rocket fuel?
“His over the top jealousy of you.”
I watch him and take another sip. Oh hell, this drink is bad. Real bad.
“He was obsessed with you.”
I smile sadly. I was obsessed with him. “Oh, well, that’s in the past.” I need to change the subject. “Tell me about you. Are you still booty-calling your ex?”
He chuckles. “No. I found a new booty-call girl, though.”
I laugh. Henry and his honesty. No man says that on a date. “You have? Is she hot?”
“So hot.” He takes my hand, picks it up, and kisses my fingertips. “Not as hot as you.”
I get an internal running commentary of what Nathan’s dry reply to that statement would be, and I smile. “Well, I’m flattered.”
