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She had one hell of a body on her and yet she didn’t work out. Not that he knew of.
She said she tried to do some yoga a few times a week and he guessed that was enough mixed in with the fact that she was always running around at work and not eating much.
“Yep,” she said. “It was cheap and available. My mother cooked it a lot. I guess it’s a good thing I liked it or I’d starve. Some countries we lived in, I didn’t eat as much. It’s not like there were chickens or pigs around. Let alone cows. Most of that was shipped in and not where we were living.”
He couldn’t imagine only having to live on fish. He’d waste away to nothing if that was the case.
“I’d be starving too,” he said.
“If you are hungry enough you eat anything. And trust me when I tell you some of the things people ate in the countries I was in. Bugs,” she said.
“Good in protein,” he said, laughing.
She gave a little fake gag. “No, thank you.”
They walked over to a table and took a seat. Menus were put in front of them and then they placed their drink orders and got some appetizers.
“They are moving fast here,” she said. “Not a lot of places do. I love going to Mona’s. They are always fast and good.”
“We could have gone there,” he said.
He hadn’t thought of it.
Or maybe he had, but the last time they were there he’d been an asshole. There was part of him that didn’t want her to have that reminder.
Guess she wasn’t as sensitive as everyone said if it didn’t cross her mind.
“Next time,” she said. “Unless you don’t want to.”
“Would you find it funny if I said there was part of me that worried you’d be upset going there since the last time we fought?”
She laughed. “First off, I don’t hold grudges. Second of all, it’s not like there are all that many really good places I like to eat at. Why would I cross a place off the list because of something beyond their control?”
“Good point,” he said.
“Do you think I’m that immature that I would have felt that way?” she asked.
He hated the hurt look on her face.
“No,” he said. “I didn’t think that. It’s just a lot of women would. Doesn’t mean they are immature.”
“Just petty,” she said. “That isn’t much better.”
“Why do I seem to mess up so much with you?”
“You don’t,” she said.
“I do,” he argued.
“It seems everyone does. I’m used to it.”
This was the opening he needed. “I don’t want you to be used to it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t act like or be yourself.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Why what?”
“Why are you saying this to me now? Why do you care? Weren’t you the one that said you weren’t promising anything? That you didn’t date?”
