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“They were upsetting you,” I argued moodily. That pissed me off.
She sighed. “Well, two wrongs do not make a right.”
“Yeah, but are we absolutely certain my flipping them off was really wrong?” I asked. “I mean, I was just calling them out on their assholery. You do that to me all the time.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I call you out because I know you’re better than that.”
My chest swelled. “You do? Just how good do you think I am, baby doll?”
Lifting her chin, she scowled. “Stop being arrogant.”
I laughed just as our waiter came around to discreetly set our receipt on the table next to me. He didn’t ask if we needed anything else, but sent me a tight smile and said, “Have a good night,” before darting a glance toward Juli and taking off.
I gazed after him, beginning to feel the same paranoia Julianna was; that people were judging us. Lifting my eyebrows her way, I said, “I guess that was our cue to leave.”
“Message received.” She grabbed her purse, suddenly eager to go.
I tossed down enough cash to cover the dinner and took her hand. As we walked out of the restaurant, I glanced around. A couple people watched us covertly, but most of them glanced past, thinking nothing of our relationship. It felt like I was conducting some kind of experiment; studying the social behaviors of the average Homo sapiens in their natural habitat. And I had to conclude, a majority of the population had evolved nicely, which was why the minority stood out so starkly, starkly enough to make Julianna feel uncomfortable.
I kissed her temple, and she pressed tighter against my side, holding my arm.
“I’m sorry,” I said as soon as we were on the sidewalk and starting back toward her building. “I didn’t understand how out of place this restaurant would make you feel.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
But I did anyway. “Did this bother you when you went on your date with Brandt?”
Briefly burying her face in my shoulder and inhaling me as if she needed my scent to soothe herself, she finally looked up. “Strangely, no.”
I frowned, tipping my face to the side as I studied her. “Why not? He’s just as white as I am.”
She shrugged, not meeting my gaze. “I don’t know.”
Unease pierced my stomach with a gnawing burn I didn’t like. “So…you just liked him so much you didn’t care what people thought?” Which meant, she didn’t like me that much.
But she looked up at me and gripped my arm, saying, “No. I think it was just the opposite actually. When he picked me up that night, it just…it felt more like two coworkers hanging out than an actual date. Friendly but not that personal. I knew we wouldn’t touch or hold hands or, you know, any of that, so I guess I just assumed other people would see coworkers together when they saw us. In fact, I never worried about the interracial aspect with him at all, and I think that was because somewhere in me I always knew it wouldn’t go there.”
And just like that, the burn in my gut dissipated. “Then you think it will go ther
e with me?” I had to ask, and my heart started to pound hard, anxious for her answer yet scared what she’d say.
“We do sleep together,” she said, but that was a fucking cop-out answer if I ever heard one.
She wouldn’t look at me either, so I pressed. “Come on, baby doll, you know what I’m really asking. Where do you think this is going with us?”
Her eyes looked so big and brown when she looked up, I could see the same worry and anxiety in my gut stirring around on her face.
“Where do you think it’s going?” she countered.
I grinned and shook my head. “I asked first.”
“Then you should answer first,” she smarted back.
I threw back my head and laughed. One thing was certain; I loved verbally sparring with her more than anyone else on the planet.
But the fucking hell I was going to answer first.
As we neared a pub with muffled music pouring from the building and floodlights shining down on a couple of outdoor tables, a rowdy group of guys noticed our approach.
